Murphy's Law
by Lily Zen
Summary: Finally! The infamous Horizon 'run! Precursor to Sex, Drugs, and Runners' Luck, as well as some of the stories in the Feral series. Feral and Switch get roped into hitting Horizon, only things go terribly wrong. Their goal is to grab an experimental drug, which gets released into the air, and unleashes all manner of depraved impulses from those who inhale it.
1. Chapter 1

Murphy's Law

Chapter 1

* * *

Fandom: Shadowrun

Pairings: Mostly Gen with a dash of Feral/Red for your angsty delights, oh, and some brief Feral/Ghost

Rating: R

Warnings: violence, gore, mentions of cannibalism, homosexuality, rape, attempted rape, insanity

Archive: Ask

Author: Alex Kade and Lily Zen

* * *

Notes: Part of the ever-growing "Lily and Alex's Shadowrun AU"—we gotta come up with a shorter title for that. This is the prologue to much of the events that occur in_ Sex, Drugs, and Runners' Luck_, detailing the infamous and tragic Horizon 'run.

Disclaimer: Shadowrun belongs to Shadowrun peoples. Original characters belong to us.

* * *

Red had an uncanny knack for showing up on her doorstep when she was half-naked and about to step in the bath. Really, she half-wondered if it was some kind of magical…_thingy_. Teva really regretted inviting him over that one time to watch an old trideo of _The Tempest_, but he was the only person she knew who appreciated Pre-Crash literature in the same way she did. Ever since then he'd taken it as an invitation to show up without messaging her any time he liked.

She opened the door in a rough towel that used to be white, a Hammerli pistol clutched in her left hand. "I hate your face," Teva deadpanned upon seeing his.

He shot her that smarmy, irritating smile of his, and she briefly considered gut-checking him in retaliation. "Good morning to you too," he cooed.

Teva shot him a very "Feral" look, eyes narrowed, lips flat, and the promise of death in her gaze.

Then Red held up a bag of warm, fresh beignets, and hot coffee.

She stepped to one side, letting him in the apartment, and closed the door after him.

"Still no roommate?" Red wondered aloud as he strode to the scarred breakfast counter, which was the only 'kitchen table' that Teva possessed, and set down his breakfast offerings. He was wearing a black sportcoat and tight, dark-washed jeans with his expensive loafers, which was pretty much as casual as Red ever got (unless he was on a Run where he thought it was likely he'd be getting bloodied, then he wore what amounted to his version of crap clothes; by his standards, almost everything Teva owned was crap clothes).

"No," she replied a little defensively, and shifted her bare feet against the cold floor. "Um, I'm gonna go put some pants on."

Red spared her a glance, the slightest twitch giving away his humor. "Please, no need to dress on my account. I do enjoy the sight of a pair of shapely legs…though they could use a shave." His tone dipped in mock disappointment.

Teva flushed, and glared at him. "What do you think I was about to do?" she snapped, and stomped off to her bedroom, his laughter following in her wake. "Fucking elf bastard," the adept muttered to herself, angrily yanking on a pair of cut-off sweatpants and a t-shirt, and subconsciously switching to Romanian to continue her grumbling, "Ruining my girly-time. Where does he get off showing up here with food and coffee like I don't have anything better to do?" She released a string of obscenities. Really, there was nothing quite like Romanian when it came to creative swears. By the time she returned to the kitchen, she felt marginally better.

The obnoxious prick was, of course, making himself at home, eating _her _breakfast (those were her beignets, dammit), and clearly surfing the Matrix on his PAN, if his focused-but-not-really-there expression was anything to go by.

"You know the rules," Teva hummed as she snuck up behind him, and stole the beignet he was about to bite into right out of his hand. "You come to visit me, you visit. No more nets."

Red huffed while his empty fingers opened and closed spastically like a claw as though to say 'where's my food?', but obligingly shut down his connection. "I don't understand what you have against the Matrix. What did it ever do to you?"

She shrugged, and stated simply, "I never really used it growing up, and I think it's one of those things that you either get the hang of then or you never really do. I'm an old, stodgy grandpa trapped in a girl's body."

"Don't you mean grandma?"

"Do I look like anybody's grandma?" she replied dryly.

After a moment of quiet contemplation, Red snorted and shook his head. "Not a chance. Grandmas are supposed to be sweet and nice, and you…are not."

"Thanks, a-hole," Feral bit out, the effect somewhat ruined as her mouth was full. She chewed and swallowed, then grabbed the other cup of coffee from the drink tray, chugging the hot liquid despite the 'caution' warning on the cap.

It always took her awhile to register that she was burning the shit out of her mouth, but when she did she danced around, hopping back and forth from one foot to the other until she got the last of the liquid down. Her mouth gaped open, and she pulled frigid air in to cool the damaged skin. "_Muist_!" she hissed, tonguing the already peeling roof of her mouth.

Unsurprisingly, Red laughed at her and sipped mockingly at his coffee. Uppity jackass.

"What do you want anyway?" Teva grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.

"What else?" the shaman drawled, "Got a job. Need you on it."

"Madden?" she asked automatically, referring to the troll they regularly used as muscle on Runs.

Red grinned. "Oh, he's already in on it. We flipped a nuyen to see who had to ask you; you've been crabby lately. I don't know what you did to Madden, but he's scared to come over here now. Anyway, I lost the coin toss, obviously."

His flippant manner only made her feel even testier. "What do you mean I'm crabby? I'm _crabby_? I just got fucking kidnapped, and forced to Run for some super creepy dudes. I couldn't shower, those bastards did _not_ feed me, _and_ they_ took my favorite knife_!"

The elven man began to open his mouth to speak, but Teva wasn't having that. She pointed one menacing finger in his face and growled out a wordless warning.

Wisely, he shut up.

"And then," Teva cried out, continuing her rant, "just when I get home, you fuckers start leaving me messages and showing up on my doorstep demanding that I just wind up my crank again and go, go, go; shoot, maim, kill whoever the hell _you _want me to! Like I don't need to fucking recover from my ordeal, because clearly I'm all stoic and bulletproof and shit, and I don't, like, have feelings, and it's impossible for me to be traumatized!" She let out a wordless harpy screech, and shook a wide-eyed Red by the shoulders. "I need to shave my legs!"

Automatically, he gripped her shoulders in return, and shouted in a panicky voice, "Okay! Shave your legs! Please, goddess, shave your legs! I didn't know it was that important to you." Red tugged her forward against him, and since he was sitting on her stool instead of standing up she wound up sort of with her nose smushed against his hair, smelling his herbal-and-subtle-cologne-and-something-like-storms fragrance, and that close it was overwhelming, particularly to her enhanced olfactory sense.

She turned her face away, taking shallow breaths. Really, the cologne was just too much. Teva felt a headache coming on. "What are you doing?" she grunted.

"Hugging you," Red replied.

After a quick pause, Teva murmured, "I can see that. I guess what I meant to ask was 'why'?"

"Because you're all…distraught and…woman-y."

"I'm going to punch you in the jugular for that," she told her sometimes-friend, her tone very level and calm.

His arms tightened.

"Really, let go," Teva stated, "This is so awkward." And it was. Her arms were trapped between them, so she wasn't really hugging back, and he smelled, and the whole thing was making her want to throw up a little in her mouth.

"Sorry," he said sincerely, "I thought I was helping."

When Red dropped his arms she immediately took three steps away from him, and tried breathing discreetly through her mouth. When all that happened was that she tasted his cologne instead of smelled it, Teva grabbed her cup off the counter and waved the coffee under her nose, inhaling the aroma until it burned away even the memory of that way-too-aromatic embrace. "Don't ever hug me again," she ordered, "Not unless you're cologne free. That shit is, like, driving an icepick right into my brain."

Red blanched, and shrugged. "I always forget about your sense of smell. Sorry about that."

"Yeah, well," Teva took another whiff of her coffee, "I'm not your girlfriend; I'm not gonna cry on your shoulder, and beg you to make my problems better."

"Not even with the magical healing power of my cock?" Red teased with a raised eyebrow.

"Hell fucking no. You keep your magic wand to yourself," Teva snapped, and told herself not to blush. That would only make Red's teasing worse, she knew. It wasn't her fault that she was less promiscuous than he was, that the thought of sex with somebody she actually knew and respected and, well, liked could still make her blush and squirm with embarrassment. She just wasn't as sexually active as most of her cohorts. Part of that was due to the fact that she didn't want to be romantically involved, and so subconsciously she avoided that emotional trap; another part of it was due to the fact that she genuinely wasn't interested in most people, and her mind sort of thought of them all like sexless dolls. Being reminded that they had genitalia and sexual interests, and taking that mental filter away from her was just odd. It was a strange thing to think of her friends as people who fucked. That kind of knowledge belonged in bedrooms and porn sims.

She shook her head, clearing it of her mental tangent, and asked, "So what's the job?"

Red made one of those nonchalant movements of his shoulders that on anyone else she would have called a shrug, except it was too graceful, too elegant, and rife with meaning to be just a shrug. "It's a little on the ambitious side."

Feral rolled her eyes in annoyance, and took a sip out of her cooling coffee cup. "Don't be coy; just spit it out."

He smiled, and inclined his head in a faint nod. "As you wish. I have a contact who is acquainted with someone—" That was Red's usual way of saying one of his Fixer's had a job lined up. Sometimes to have an actual conversation with Red, one had to decode his ambiguous lingo. "—who would like some information from Horizon. The challenge is that Horizon has a closed system. A hacker would need to be on the premises in order to gain access."

"And you have one in mind?" Feral asked with a raised eyebrow.

Red shook his head. "Not yet. I've got to comb my contacts and see who's available."

Tipping her head to one side, Teva said very slowly and uncertainly, "I could ask…"

The elf shot her an incredulous look. "You know a hacker?"

She resorted to the age old gesture of flipping someone off in retaliation. "Hey, I meet people. I make new friends."

"Is he good?" Red asked.

"Um, duh," Feral volleyed back at the shaman in a voice that indicated she wouldn't have said anything at all if he wasn't. "So what do you need me for if this is mainly a hack job?" She rolled her shoulders as she was beginning to grow stiff from standing still for so long.

The shaman patted the stool next to him.

With another exasperated glance at the ceiling, she slipped onto the seat, and stole another beignet from the bag. Teva bit in, and moaned as the fresh flavor hit her tongue. That was the nice thing about Red; he was so into having everything, or at least as much as possible, be real, and expensive, and high class that whenever he came around she always felt free to indulge in the leftover luxury. It wasn't that she didn't like stuff, she'd just never gotten used to having it around. Like anyone who'd lived most of their life eating soy-foods, even a fluffy little pastry sprinkled with powdered sugar became a decadent treat. She chewed with her eyes closed, and licked the sugar off of her thumb and index finger after she'd set the rest down on a plate, and seriously, Red had been there way too many times if he knew where her plates were and was comfortable enough to help himself.

She opened her eyes lazily, smiled like the charming little girl she'd never been, and said, "I forgive you for interrupting my girly-time."

"Thought so," Red murmured under his breath smugly.

Just for that she punched his shoulder.

He frowned at her, and huffed, "Really, Feral." Reaching up, the ever-image conscious elf casually smoothed out an imagined wrinkle from his jacket sleeve.

"Anyway…" she prompted in an annoyed tone, and picked up her beignet for another bite.

"Protection. Muscle. What else? A hacker is pretty much a sitting duck once he's jacked in, and the data isn't the only thing we need to get. At the same time I'll be leading another team through the corp to the hard copy data storage, and another team will head to the testing lab to grab the prototype of the drug that our Johnson wants."

"Three-pronged assault," Feral mumbled absently with her cheeks stuffed full of delicious doughiness. She swallowed hurriedly, using her coffee to wash it down. "So let me get this straight. You want to execute a three-point hit on Horizon HQ. And how the hell are we supposed to do that?"

Red started grinning mischievously. "We're going to walk in the front door, of course. Why do you think I asked you if your tech-friend was any good? We are all going to need fake SINs for this."

"Balls," Feral spat out, "Are you serious? Fake SINs for what, six people? That'll take forever!" Even a techno-dunce like Teva knew that it took time and skill to create a viable fake SIN. "And who the hell are you getting to run the other team? So far all you've said is it's you and Madden, and now me. My hacker makes four. So who are the other two fuckheads?"

"I haven't decided yet," Red retorted primly. "But you can rest assured they'll be good. Of course, I'm open to suggestions."

"Fuck you," Feral suggested.

"Mm, an option," the elf agreed coolly with a little smirk on his face. "Trust me, I have a plan."

"Every time you say 'trust me,' it usually means I'm about to do something stupid," Teva sighed, and stuffed the rest of her pastry in her mouth, grabbing another one before she'd even started chewing it.

The shaman followed her greedy move with his eyes—judgmental eyes that silently wondered where she put it all—but merely smiled. "When have we ever not gotten out of a situation unscathed?" he asked rhetorically.

Glaring at him, she mumbled something indistinguishable, but if the look in her eyes was anything to go by, it was certainly critical.

"This is foolproof," Red replied. "Contact your tech. I'll take care of the rest of the team. And don't worry, Teva, everything is going to go smoothly. We'll pull this off right under their noses, and be out before anyone's the wiser."

"Famous last words," she grumped, and bit savagely through another treat.

Red left after breakfast with a repeated reminder to phone him as soon as she heard anything from her acquaintance because "I have to get this moving quickly, and if your friend isn't in then I have to start making other arrangements."

Teva muttered, "yeah, yeah, yeah," and shooed him bodily out the door. "Thanks for the beignets, but you've outlived your usefulness here."

"Bitch."

"Whoreface," she shot back, and slammed the door.

Out in the hallway, Red shouted, "Shave your legs, Sasquatch!"

"I'm going to kill him," she muttered to herself as she stomped away from the door, rubbing the spot above her left eyebrow with one finger. "One of these days I'm just gonna kill him."

Teva walked to the little bowl on the counter where she routinely dropped all her miscellaneous items in as soon as she walked in the door. It was a misshapen little orange-colored pinch-pot that had been one of Tamsin's first attempts at 3D art, and one of the things that Teva had taken from her family's old apartment when she had returned briefly to Tampa. Most of the items had been sold and carried out. Her last night there Teva had slept in a sleeping bag on the bare living room floor, even the rug having been sold earlier that day.

There was some spare change in the bowl as well, a few bobby pins she'd obtained from who knew where, and a small utility knife, the kind with a few different tools tucked away in the handle. Always good to have a knife handy.

She fished out the commlink, and tapped a button to bring up the display. "Call Switch," she stated, and the comm automatically browsed her list of saved numbers and dialed out. For every ring, the comm beeped once on her end, and subconsciously she began to count the seconds between each beep until the guy she was trying to get a hold of picked up.

* * *

"Will that be all, Mr. Knox?" the man at the counter of Switch's current hotel check-in asked.

It was his third one in as many days. Normally he didn't have too many issues with the Wylie's Gala franchise, but the game had changed and he was constantly on edge, paranoid about everything. Staying in one place for too long could result in any number of things...like being kidnapped and thrown in a cell by the Creeper Twins, to use as a completely random example. That had happened while he was Will, when he was supposed to be secure in his corp world with its walls and security. This was outside, on the streets, and though he'd been out here "living the life" more times than he remembered over the course of the past few years, it had still been a bit of a wake-up call for him.

Yep, being on the move was a good thing. Switching from place to place as readily as he switched IDs, just like his name implied. He was just doing it a little more often nowadays.

Plus, to be honest, he just couldn't find a place that lived up to what he wanted. Maybe he'd try to step up to one of the Gold Lions for a while. He was sure he could be fairly comfortable there.

"Mr. Knox?"

"Oh, right." He laughed as he got the keycode from the clerk. "Sorry, spaced out on you there for a second, huh? Which way is my room?"

"Top floor on the right, sir."

Will smiled and gave the guy a little two-fingered salute, and made his way to the elevator. His PAN picked up the little, "fraggin' chiphead" comment the guy mumbled under his breath.

That was good. Chiphead, yeah. No one paid any attention to random chipheads checking into hotels. He could get into that role. It'd keep him off the grid for a while.

He keyed the code in for his room and sighed when he stepped in. It looked just like any other Gala room out there - single bed, small table in the corner, a chair, available trid player, a-

"Oh my god!" Will ran over to the little food preparation area and laughed. "How old is this?" He snapped a photo with his glasses and sent it off to Cos. The man would get a kick out the old-fashioned microwave. "Gotta be just for decoration."

He looked around more, then frowned as he realized it _wasn't_just for decoration. They really expected their clientele to heat their food in that old contraption.

"Nope. Looks like I'm eating out."

Quickly, he checked the nuyen in his accounts.

"And eating out cheap. I hate that stuff."

Disheartened, he lifted his bag onto his bed and began to unpack. Typically he didn't bother, but honestly he was tired of running around. As cautious as he was trying to be, it probably wouldn't hurt to stay in this place for a few extra days. The clerk thought he was just a "fraggin' chiphead" after all. No one would come looking for him there.

Later on, Switch was lying in the middle of the floor as some action trid played all around him, staring up at a 3D war helicopter flying overhead. It was sad, really, but he missed Henry. As much as he preferred his viewing pleasure on his sim mod, this was as close to his little moments at home with his stupid toys that he was going to get at the moment. He'd take what little enjoyment he could for the time being.

His comm alerting him to a call made him jump slightly. Sighing, he paused the trid and took his time putting his glasses on his face. The PAN showed him Feral's profile, to which he sighed even louder.

"I don't really want to die anytime soon," he mumbled to himself as the display kept flashing in his vision. He turned his head to the side and caught a glimpse of the half-eaten soy burger dropped in the garbage. Cringing, he felt himself giving in to his weakness.

"You are so pathetic," he muttered, and sent a mental order to answer the call. "Feral, I will love you forever if whatever you want me to do involves either real food, or earning enough nuyen to _buy_ real food."

Feral chuckled at the greeting. "I can maybe do both," she answered, sliding into her kitchen to grab a glass and some water from the fridge spout.

Seriously, Red had the hook-up; she might be able to arrange for some real food for her cohort if he agreed to do the Run. She had no idea how exactly Red was able to get all that stuff, but he could, and so she regularly made him bribe her with food to get anything done. Meeting to discuss a Run? Bring food. Crashing at Teva's place to avoid last night's lay that wasn't awake yet, or some people that may or may not want him dead? Bring extra good food. Informing Teva that she was going to pay him back for the watch? Bring something to eat; maybe lace it with a little something to keep her calm.

"I have an acquaintance who has a line on a really big job. You interested?"

Will sat up and switched off the trid completely so he could pay better attention, then slid over so his back was up against the end of the bed.

"A: how badly is this going to get me killed? B: what are we doing, exactly, and don't do that thing where you try to make it sound less like it's probably going to get me killed. C: who's on The League? And D: how badly is this going to get me killed?"

"So basically you want me to be brutally honest?" Teva asked rhetorically, sipped her water, and walked back to the bag of beignets. They weren't warm anymore, but they were still good. Red had left them behind, possibly in an attempt to further her good will toward him. She pulled one of the remaining two out of the bag, and hopped back up on the stool, leaning her elbows on the counter as she picked a small piece of pastry off from the rest.

"Okay, so, on a scale of one to ten, ten being dead and one being alive, unharmed, and much richer, I'd say this job is probably a two unless somebody fucks up, in which case our chances of survival decrease significantly." She popped the piece of food she'd been playing with in her mouth, and chewed a little loudly than she would have otherwise. "But Red seems to think his plan is foolproof, and truthfully, he's pretty clever when it comes to picking runs he can pull off with both style and aplomb. He doesn't really like to get dirty, you see." Teva swallowed and took a noisy sip out of her glass. "Basically, we're going to need fake SINs for the whole team, that's six, and we're all just going to walk on site and rob them blind."

Grabbing the beignet, she took a big bite, moaning slightly as she chewed. "Man, have you ever eaten a beignet? These things are _incredible_." Yeah, it was dirty pool, but whatever worked, right?

Will let out a little whimper at the mention of beignets. "You're a horrible, evil person. I hope you know that."

Teva giggled as Switch called her an evil person. It was true, at least in this instance.

He mulled over her actual words for a few seconds, trying very hard not to be distracted by the sounds of real food being consumed. He talked out loud to himself as he sorted it out in his head.

"A two on the scale..._if_ The Tagalongs don't mess things up, so I'll bump that up to at least a four, minimum. Some guy with a plan that doesn't like to get dirty; not dirty is good. I'd say bleeding from possible gunshot and/or stab wounds would be considered dirty. New SINs for the whole team, which was six... Wait, _six?!_" He quickly flipped from addressing himself back to talking to Teva. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to rig up a fake SIN? What sort of time frame am I working under?"

She licked the traces of powdered sugar from her finger, and drawled, "I was worried you might be alarmed by the whole SIN thing. I'm a tech-tard, so no, I really have no idea how much work goes into the whole process, but I had an idea that it was a little more difficult than I thought it was."

She shifted in her seat, throwing her legs up on the other stool. "We've got nine days before we have to hit the target." …Which she still hadn't actually named because she didn't want Switch freaking out on her just yet. "That's the only day that we'll have a way in for everybody. You and I would be going in as outside building safety inspectors, making sure that everything is up to code. Team B has a way in thanks to two new lab personnel that are being hired that day. Team C is going in as manual labor subcontractors. Obviously, the real people will need to be safely removed a day or so ahead of time. The medical personnel definitely; Team C will be taking legit jobs with the subcontractor with their fake SINs, then you'd have to hack them to make sure they get scheduled to work at the target that day. You and I would definitely need SINs. The beauty of being building inspectors though is that their visits are always impromptu. One never knows when the state is going to show up and poke around. The other two identities might be easier since they're already established. We'd just need to change the images and some of the data on the established SINs to reflect that of our people. That's easier, right?" Feral asked uncertainly. "It sounds easier," she murmured under her breath, and took another noisy bite of beignet.

Will groaned as Feral kept rattling on about the SINs, trying to catalog the work involved in all that.

"So my pal, Red, the guy who's putting together this job, he totally brought me breakfast this morning. He knows the way to get me to cooperate is through delicious eaties. What's your favorite food?" Teva asked nonchalantly.

"Nine days?" Will nearly squeaked, ignoring Feral as the panic hit home. "Super hacker that I am, I can't pull that off by myself, even _with_ the easier job of hacking a pre-made SIN. Lucky for you, I know a guy that can help. _Unlucky _for you, he charges up front, and I'm a little loooooow right now..." He was making his 'god, I don't want to call in 'Carn for help' face as he talked. Maybe he could just sort it out through Kiki...

"And I like manicotti. The kind with real cheese and beef sauce. Oh, and chocolate mousse for dessert." He paused for a second in though. "I don't really even know if that's my favorite dessert or if I just like the mental image I get when I say 'chocolate mousse,' though." He chuckled at the word and its coinciding mental image of a giant chocolate moose. "I also like plain vanilla ice cream if this Red guy can't get mousse." Another chuckle escaped his control. "Moose. Haha!"

"I've never had chocolate mousse," Teva sighed longingly. "It sounds delicious." Fantasies danced in her brain about treats she'd never eaten. Unfortunately, she had quite the sweet tooth. It was a weakness that Red exploited ruthlessly.

She filed away the information about manicotti and mousse (ice cream if mousse was unavailable) for future reference.

"How much nuyen are we talking to get this guy to do some magical tech-wizardry for us?" she asked quickly. "Because that's something I'm going to have to talk over with Red. Maybe he can get us an advance or something so none of us has to go balls deep in investing our own cash."

More calculations ran through Switch's head, and as the numbers ticked off inside his brain, he inadvertently displayed them on the screen inside his glasses. He did an initial total for all six based on 'Carn's usual prices, then subtracted things away that he could handle on his own with his own nuyen.

"Okay, here's the max damage," he said, and rattled off a number. He spat it out quickly, knowing it was probably higher than she'd been anticipating. 'Carn wasn't cheap, but cheap could get you dead really fast.

Feral sucked in a sharp breath at the number that Switch gave her. "Damn," she sighed, "Red's not gonna be happy." Grumbling under her breath, she stated, "Oh well, he should have picked a smaller job. His fault."

Before Teva could really begin to protest the amount, Switch jumped ahead with hopefully some more helpful ways to cut some corners. "That's including the price to buy all new comms. If we could, I don't know, 'borrow' a few from a ganger here and there, or something, we could just reprogram the IDs on those models. And the medic guys? If I can get their _actual_ comms, it'd be a ton easier to just replace the information right on the original unit than transferring the SIN to a new one. I can handle that in like a day."

"So we can steal some comms, and that'll cut down the price a little?" She released a long, slow breath, doing some logistical thinking, which wasn't always her strong suit. Feral was more of a point-her-at-the-enemy-and-let-her-go type. That was the reason that she never actually ran the Runs she went on. She got too annoyed with holding all those little threads together. "Alright, so I'll contact Red, give him the price for our new lives. Is your guy going to need these comms in advance? Because then we've got to figure out how we're getting them to him. I won't steal from gangers where I live. That would pretty much be like sticking a sign on top of my building that says 'shadowrunner lives here.' Plus, the job is going down in L.A. So we've got to keep things like travel time and mail time in mind. I mean, are you anywhere near your guy right now? Are you just going to pick up the SINs and bring them to L.A.?"

"Fuck, getting ahead of myself," she snapped, and put on the mental brakes. "So are you in or what? Because if I'm talking nuyen with my connection, I've got to have a definite answer for him instead of just hypotheticals."

"It's better if he can build the SIN and profile straight into the comm - leaves less of a trail - but he also happens to be the best Eraser I know, so whatever he uses to store the data on in the meantime will disappear as soon as he loads it onto the unit. Of course, there'll be a fee for _that_ too. He pretty much charges for everything." Will rolled his eyes and moved on to the next issue at hand. "And 'borrowing' comms on the downlow is easy. I do it all the time. You just have to-" He paused, a confused look crossing his face. "Wait, is there something I know about living on the streets that you don't?" The confusion turned into a small smirk. "Oh my god. Looks like the 'corpse' has some street cred after all, huh? Let me just...I need to bask in this moment for a second..."

"Switch," she growled his name in warning. "Let me be perfectly up front with you: anything technology-related is not my forte. If you need to know how to build a bomb or rig an arson scene, or pretty much anything about guns or martial arts, I'm your girl, but don't ask me to explain how a commlink works or anything about the Matrix, because I don't fucking know. And the more you gloat right now, the harder I'm going to hit you when I lay eyes on you. You're kind of skinny; I don't think you can take it."

Teva started picking idly at her nail beds, pushing her cuticles away with nails that were clipped short and rounded. "Now, how does one 'borrow' comms, my little corpse-geek?" she asked pleasantly.

"You just kind of suck the fun out of everything, don't you?"

He huffed out a heavy sigh before continuing.

"It's not that technical, by the way. I can't believe you haven't _heard_ of these guys- sorry, that wasn't a gloat. Please don't hit me. Anyway, there's this 'hooder organization that calls itself SINless City - it's a play off the old comi...nevermind. You probably won't know what that means. They're generally okay guys, though, lifting commlinks off thugs and gangers who probably stole them from somebody else, anyway...some poor, unsuspecting victim that they left bleeding in the street...jerks."

Will shook his head. "City has the comms erased before giving them back to people who might actually need them. They've got these drop boxes all over the place...well, sort of. We call it a drop box, but it could be a trash can or a flower pot or some street performer's hat - anything. You slip a request in the box - discreetly, which means don't hover around it waiting for some sort of confirmation code or something because you won't get it, and they'll just pull up and leave if you draw attention to the box - and tell them where to leave the comm, then you can pick it up the next day - sooner if they like you. It's all done anonymous, no questions asked. Problem is, you only get one at a time, and however they go about monitoring the system, if they catch you trying to get more, you don't get any at all. Oh, and they 'like you' if you drop a comm back in a box when you're done using it, so if we could not destroy these when we're through, that would be awesome for everyone involved. You could get your own SINless City flier miles!"

He smiled at that, but hurriedly continued in case she didn't think his brand of humor was funny, which he assumed she didn't.

_Fear is good_, she reminded herself. _When people are afraid of you, they generally try not to piss you off._ Making Switch a little leery of her was just good business. After all, they'd only done the one Run together, and that was under duress. She'd had very little time to gain a sense of his true self. There was no telling just what he was capable of. In short, trust was earned, and Switch hadn't put in quite enough hours yet.

She did, however, snort at his terrible pun.

"The only real technical part about the process is that the drop boxes change location every hour, and if you don't know where to look you'll never find it. If you guys can pull the commlinks off the two medics, and have two other people posted in different cities, I can put in a drop for one comm over here and have you guys get the other three. Just give me the city and a time, and I'll get you a box. I'd jump on that, like, tomorrow at the latest. You can send me the three and I'll get them to my guy, but hang onto the two from the medics. I'll reprogram those when I get to L.A."

He paused, realizing he had gotten himself all caught up in the explanation and details of the Run, and thus may have forgotten one tiny, important piece of information.

"Speaking of L.A...who are we hitting? And the fact that you haven't told me that already makes me want to add another number to the scale of 'I'm going to die,' just so you know."

Teva decided to dance around his question in favor of one of her own. "Since the comms are already erased, couldn't we just request them from our current location? We have multiple runners nearby, enough that if we each got a comm from the drop box, we'd have our three. No need for extra stops on the way then. So where's the drop box in New Orleans?"

"Ohhhhh god, you're avoiding the question," he whined, ignoring pretty much everything she just said. "That increases my chances of dying to like 87%. I haven't even had a chance to rebuild my Liberator army. You do know I kind of depend on those little guys to keep me alive when my body's just lying around being a big 'kill me, I'm in your system!' target, right?"

_Poor guy_, Teva thought. She chuckled out loud before remembering she should probably not do that. Switch was apparently the nervous type. _Don't want to freak him out any more than I have to_.

With the slightest hint of an exasperated sigh, Feral drawled out, "Relax. It's not as bad as you're making it out to be. We're just gonna go walk right into Horizon, rob them blind, and be out before they even know we were there. It'll take us thirty minutes tops; less if you're as good a hacker as you say you are." She kept her tone cool and unworried, displaying none of her own misgivings. Feral trusted Red to set up a Run, to pick the right team, come up with a plan that would get them in and out as safely as possible. He was good at that kind of masterminding. She had complete faith in his ability to plan.

However, life didn't always go according to plan, Teva was aware. Sometimes people made mistakes or something changed in the environment; something as small as a guard taking a cigarette break a couple minutes earlier than usual could take all the careful plotting in the world and smash it to hell. That was when you had to think on your feet, and sometimes that involved a scrape or two. Her point was that nothing was foolproof; the world was not a set of ideal conditions.

There was no need to explain any of that to twitchy Switch though. He'd probably disappear in a hurry, and she'd never find him again. Not that she'd blame him. She was, after all, only about 80% confident that Red's job was going to go as smoothly as he insisted it would. That wasn't exactly a ringing endorsement of any kind.

"And don't worry about your lack of…liberator army," she drew the words out slowly, still getting used to Switch's general oddness. "You'll have me. I'm way more badass than any toy." At that, Feral's voice turned smug. She didn't have to fake her self-assuredness there; Teva knew she was a BAMF. In fact, she was one of the BAMFiest BAMFs out there, and if anybody tried to tell her differently she'd be happy to use her favorite rebuttal: fist, meet face.

"Horizon? Like _the_ Horizon? You're insane! You and your crazy five other Runners are insane! No! There is no way I'm going to-"

Like she'd thought, he began freaking out. Teva rubbed the sinus cavity above her right eyebrow in annoyance. Techs; they were all fucking pussies at the heart of the matter. That was why they'd rather play with the Matrix than pick up a weapon and do some real work. "Can you shut up?" she muttered aloud unintentionally, but Teva doubted he could hear her over the sound of his own whining.

_"Do the Run, Switch."_

Will closed his eyes as he felt the command rather than actually heard it. Without telling Feral he was changing lines, he flipped over to talk to Phantom.

That little blip in the audio feed made Teva think he'd hung up on her. However, a moment went by without her little comm informing her of the disconnection. That was when Feral figured it out, and she clenched her jaw. "That little fucker put me on hold?!"

That's it; he'd definitely earned himself a smack. The adept made a mental note not to hit anything vital when…if she saw him again. He was probably halfway to Australia by now, running so fast he left a trail of dust behind him. Jeez, you mention the name of one little megacorp, and the rabbits go to ground.  
She ate the rest of her breakfast, silently fuming. Still, she left the comm connected because who knew? Maybe he had some legitimate reason for unceremoniously putting her on hold aside from being a rude little shithead.

"Do you listen in on _all _my calls, or did I say some sort of magic code word?" Switch snapped on the other line.

_"Horizon. We need to hit them too. We can use your Run as cover for ours," _Phantom's voice whispered to him.

Will shook his head. "I'm the only sane one here. When did that happen? When did _I _become the sane one?"

_"We won't get in the way. You do yours, we'll do ours, but we'll ride in on your hack. They've got four technos in holding, Switch. You can help us help them."_

The usual types of images and emotions of the four experimental subjects flooded Will's senses, and he knew he wouldn't be able to say no to that kind of suffering.

"I hate you so much right now. If I die, I'm coming back as a ghost in your system. Then you can see what it feels like to have some random guy in _your _brain telling you what to do."

_"Thank you, Switch."_

"Yeah, yeah. You're paying me for this one. I hope you know that."

_"I'll leave you a gift."_

Phantom's presence slipped away at that point, leaving Switch sulking in his wake.

"I am so dead."

Sighing, he flipped back over to Feral's line. "Fine, I'm in. And to answer your previous question, you can't all hit that same box. SINless doesn't exactly advertise their services. If you all go in one after the other, they'll suspect something's up. I'll track down a drop location that you can hit, but you'll have to tell your guys to wait for it to change between hours. And for the love of a box of s'more bites, please be casual about it."

When Switch clicked back over to her line she didn't mind admitting that she was surprised. "You're in?" Teva repeated incredulously. "What happened to 'you're crazy; no, no, no, whine and a little cheese please'?"

'Fucking hackers,' she mouthed to the empty room.

"Why the abrupt change of heart?" Because, yeah, like that wasn't suspicious or anything.

"It wasn't abrupt," he argued. "I just took a little self-reflection time, realized I was being Clark Kent instead of Superman, and came to the conclusion that you guys would be _so_ completely screwed if I didn't help you on this. As much as I don't want to be dead, I'd have to feel bad if some second-rate chiphead you hired from Hackers-R-Us got you all killed. Then there'd be guilt. Nobody wants that. Especially me, because I have enough on my shoulders right-" _Switch, you're rambling._"You know what? Don't question me. I changed my mind, take it or leave it."

He huffed out an annoyed breath. He probably should tell her that he had just essentially volunteered their Run to possibly become a tail chaser for Phantom's extraction, but that probably wouldn't go over well. He already expected to get a punch in the arm at the very least, and turning that into a bullet to his kneecap didn't seem like such a great option. No, he'd have to keep his little side Run a secret...unless it got in the way. Then he might have to say something...

"I'm in a Gala in Atlanta right now," he mentioned, hoping to just get the details of the Run over with and get off the line. As a superhero, lying was an essential part of surviving, but it didn't mean he particularly enjoyed doing it to someone who might actually be on their way to being called something of a friend...plus, he wasn't always necessarily good at it. "Send the comms to Caleb Knox at the LockShip by Meyers on Hollywood Rd - I've got a box there. Once I get them, I'm off to FDC to meet my guy...who I'll need to pay, soooo..."

She rolled her eyes, and bit out, "I'll get you your money. Send me an account number to transfer the cred into when you figure out the location of the drop box."

Feral paused, feeling that little itch at the back of her brain that said something fishy was about to happen. "And Switch, look, I hate to be all cliché and shit, but if you fuck me over, I'll probably kill you myself. Just sayin'. You might not want to try double-crossing us or anything crazy like that. I don't take that lightly." Her warning was issued as casually as could be, but underneath the deceptive airiness of her voice there lay a thread of steel. She hoped he heard it; she really wasn't in the mood to get jerked around.

Without another word, Feral disconnected the call, and tossed her comm back in the bowl of miscellany.

* * *

**TBC…**


	2. Chapter 2

Murphy's Law

Chapter 2

* * *

Fandom: Shadowrun

Pairings: Mostly Gen with a dash of Feral/Red for your angsty delights, oh, and some brief Feral/Ghost

Rating: R

Warnings: violence, gore, mentions of cannibalism, homosexuality, rape, attempted rape, insanity

Archive: Ask

Author: Alex Kade and Lily Zen

* * *

Disclaimer: Shadowrun belongs to Shadowrun peoples. Original characters belong to us.

* * *

Will frowned as the line went dead.

"It's not a double-cross," he mumbled to the air. He may not have liked every team he'd had to work with, but never once would he stab his fellow Runners in the back. Keeping secrets was one thing, but going traitor? That was villain material, and he wasn't made of that. If push came to shove he'd just have to see to it that he did everything in his power to get everyone out on the not dead side of things. The Liberator never left a man behind.

Not that Feral would have any reason to believe him if he told her that, and admittedly being probably one of the _most _paranoid Runners he knew, he wasn't even going to try.

Superhero Rule #2: Lead by example.

...or in this case, prove himself trustworthy by example.

Starting with getting that drop box. He smiled at the thought; finding drop boxes was one of his favorite puzzles to decipher. It was like playing scavenger hunt cryptograms, only with landmarks instead of letters, and Switch had always been very good with both games.

Flopping down on his back on the mattress, he fished out his gloves and set to work. It started with bringing up an image of a map of New Orleans - his game board - and slipping in through a back door to the Wizzer club designated to the city where he'd find his first clue. The setting he walked into was old, dusty, and very British pub. Switch altered his persona from his usual hoodie and sunglasses to sporting a frock coat, complete with hat and pipe. Grinning widely, he mentally keyed in a bunch of code until a sidekick appeared next to him, the process taking only a matter of seconds as the digital world responded easily to his quick thoughts.

"Well, Watson," he whispered in a perfect British accent, his eyes shifting around at the shady looking pub-goers. "Let's find that first clue, shall we?"

_Holmes adventure, ha! Awesome._

He didn't _only_ read comic books, after all.

* * *

Sliding off of the kitchen stool, Teva strode into the outdated bathroom, cranking the faucet in the tub all the way to the 'hot' side. Like the sink, the water took awhile to heat up, so she took a little side trip to her bedroom. Her cigarettes were on the nightstand, a plain, brown square on scratched legs. It wasn't real wood, but some kind of cheap, synthetic replacement. Most people couldn't afford real wood furniture any more. The only reason she had wood floors was that the apartment building was so goddamn old. She shook a stick out of the small box and lit it with a disposable lighter.

"Shit," she hissed as she exhaled, the smoke curling like a dragon's breath, and stalked back to the kitchen counter where she'd stored her comm. Red would throw a bitch-fit if she didn't get back to him a.s.a.p. Teva took the device with her into the bathroom, where she added a touch of cold water to the bath while pulled up the display on her comm and started typing.

'Hacker's in. Nickname: Switch. Has connection 2 get 6 fINs; needs cash. Sending me info on where 2 get erased comms & acct # 4 trans. Also requires real manicotti AND chocolate mousse or vanilla ice cream.' Lastly, she included the nuyen amount, something she was sure Red would bust a blood vessel over, and hit send. Then, knowing his penchant for interrupting her, Teva set the phone on the toilet lid, stripped off her sweats, and stepped into the tub still holding her cigarette…because she's talented like that, and like any true addict, has an ash tray in every room.

Like she anticipated, her comm started going off, Red's name displayed in the air just above where it was laying. Teva reached over the rim of the tub, snatched the little thin rectangle up, and hit the speaker function. "Yes?" she asked, putting her comm back on the toilet.

"Are you fraggin' kidding me?" Red snapped.

"Do I sound like I'm laughing?" she retorted as she exhaled. "Hey, this is your stupid plan. It's not my fault it's expensive." Teva brought her knees up to her chest in the water, and wrapped the arm she wasn't using to hold her cigarette around them.

Red sighed. She could almost hear him grinding his teeth. "I'll contact my Fixer; tell her we need an advance."

"Good plan," Teva replied lightly, putting her cigarette out in the ashtray next to the tub.

"And why the hell did you promise this hacker food?" he asked with a note of confusion in his tone.

Shrugging, the adept leaned forward in the tub, swiping her razor and shave lotion off of the rim. The water lapped at the edges of the bath, the sound loud and echoing in the tiled room, as she raised one leg out of the water and propped her foot up, stretching the limb out in front of her. "He was hungry. It seemed like a good way to get him to do what I wanted him to. And you know what? It worked. So shut the fuck up."

And to her utter shock, he did.

She had time to lather up her leg, and reach for the razor before he spoke again in the midst of her first stroke.

"Teva," he began casually, "Are you in the bathtub?" There was an undercurrent of amusement in his words, but she refused to rise to the bait.

"I might be," she replied with equal nonchalance.

Red let out a low, suggestive chuckle. "You know, sometimes I think you might be flirting with me."

Rinsing the razor off in the water, the young woman wondered out loud with genuine confusion, "Why would I want to do that?"

"Hmm… Why, indeed?" Feral was about to tell him exactly where he could go stuff his implications when Red cleared his throat. "I'll get the nuyen together. Call me when you've got that account number." He hung up then, and she was left wondering if maybe she wasn't trying to flirt with him occasionally. That was just a disturbing thought though, and so she left it without coming to any firm conclusions.

* * *

Switch/Holmes stood leaning over a table staring at a map that Watson was holding open, it's edges trying to roll in on themselves on both sides. On the map were twenty-four markers in different locations throughout the city, all results of the day's scavenger hunt. Now it was just a matter of deciphering what order they went in so he'd know which drop box was at each location during every hour. This was where the cryptogram puzzle came into play.

"This is impossible, Holmes!" Watson said in dismay as he stared at the puzzle.

Switch took a puff of his pipe and grinned, blowing the smoke out in little O's. "On the contrary, Watson. It's really quite elementary - all a matter of letters and numbers. The first box we found was a zebra statue, therefore making the first letter of our puzzle the letter Z."

He wrote a Z down on his notepad.

"The clue within the zebra's mouth led us to the fencepost with the detachable knob."

An F was scribbled down beside the Z.

"Inside the post was our clue to the water fountain with the missing panel in the back."

He then marked a W beside the F.

"The next two boxes consisted of a casket and a pickle jar."

A C and a P were jotted down.

"Holmes, how do you know that you need to specifically label it a pickle jar and not just a jar?"

Switch laughed and tapped his sidekick on the head with his pipe. "Because if it was just a J for jar, it wouldn't have been so very precisely labeled with the word 'pickles.' You must learn to look for every possibility, Watson. Account for everything. Nothing is a mistake. Now where were we?"

"You have ZFWCP, Holmes. What's the next letter?"

"The next letter would be a space, actually. The clue that was inside the pickle jar told us to take a breath before we moved ahead. So we need a space, after which comes another F for First Aid Kit, and so on and so forth until our full puzzle looks like this..." He lifted up the notepad to show his astonished friend. "ZFWCP FPN KBBNBB DO YRFL YA NB. Now all we have to do is solve it." It only took him a few minutes to crack the code, and he laughed at the final result. "'Cajun and voodoo is what we do.' If that isn't an advertisement for New Orleans, I'm not sure what is."

Watson snorted. "Very good, Holmes, but now that we've solved it, what do we do with it?"

"This..." Switch took his pen and began to scribble the correct letters on top of the markers he had already numbered. Once the entire code was put in properly, the letters and numbers disappeared off the markers, and new numbers appeared in their places depicting the true order the boxes fell in. The effect came across looking like the ink had simply absorbed into the paper, and new ink had welled up from underneath.

"Spectacular!" Watson whispered.

Switch nodded. "Quite. Now, we're on a very limited schedule, Watson, so don't dally. Nearly half of these boxes are already irrelevant. I must get the rest to Ms. Feral before the day is through, and I still have to locate my own box. Carry that, if you would, please."

Watson quickly rolled up the map. "I'll keep it safe, Holmes."

"Of that I have no doubt."

As they walked out the door of 221B Baker St. the city of London disappeared, and Switch found himself staring up at the Gala room ceiling. His eyes shifted slightly and a digital map of the one his agent was storing appeared in front of him, all the drop boxes and their corresponding times displayed neatly for easy reading. Pleased with the game, he was still sporting a happy grin as he messaged the list to Feral of all the upcoming box times, starting with the one falling at the next closest hour. He also remembered to send the _most_important piece of information - his account number.

Next on the list - dive back into the Matrix so he could find his own box. Holmes was fun, but he was ready for something new. When he found himself on a treasure hunt for the Lost City of Atlantis...in Atlanta - _ha!_ - he donned some underwater gear and got ready to go for a digital swim...

* * *

The discreet beep of the comm went off, and for a second Feral paused in the middle of her crunch, then continued, wrapping up the set before she got up to check the message. She wasn't sweating yet, which was kind of the idea of a 'light' workout; at least that's how she felt about it. Just enough to get the blood pumping in her veins and keep up her muscle tone. Teva wasn't an avid exerciser like some adepts. Razor had always been lifting something or running somewhere; hitting things and training constantly. That wasn't Teva's style. The way she figured it, her magic was what was amping up her body. Skill, now, that was different. She took a lot of classes to keep her skills sharp and learn new techniques. Being slender was advantageous in certain situations, but in a fight it forced her to rely on technical skill, speed, and creativity rather than brute force. Besides, hitting the gym constantly was almost unfair to the rest of the world. After all, she could do things naturally that most people needed implants for.

With a quick move, she brought up her messages, a new one in bold-faced display projecting into the air from none other than the hacker, Switch. Opening it, she quickly perused the information, and decided that she'd go hit up the next time frame for the drop box. Forwarding the message along to Red, Teva included the following addendum: 'Hitting the box now. You and Madden wait for different times/locations. You figure out who the other two players are yet?' She hit send, and went to go change out of her workout shorts into a pair of distressed jeans (distressed from use, not because she bought them that way, thank you), and a men's button down she'd fished out of a pile at a rummage sale.

Boots, belt, weapons, and a light jacket, and Teva was slipping out the door, her AR shades sliding onto her face, and the comm clipped to her waistband. She sighed. "I always feel like such a douchebag with these on. Really need to invest in a pair of lenses."

* * *

Red glanced down at his comm screen as it went off with Feral's custom tone—the honk of a semi-truck—and quickly scanned her message. A little abrupt, as per the usual; at least it would always be easy to tell if it was really her on the other end. He glanced up, a tiny grin tugging up one corner of his lips. If she weren't so damn adorable she'd be horribly unlikable. The thing was that somewhere underneath many, many layers of gruffness and vulgarity, she was actually kind of charming. Feral grew on a person the way barnacles did on a boat.

The woman seated in the other chair at the small table raised her eyebrows inquisitively.

Izzy was one of the Fixers he'd used for years. She was a no-bullshit kind of woman whose attitude coincidentally reminded him of Feral quite a bit. Izzy was a retired rigger, and former CAS fighter pilot. She was tall, broad-shouldered, busty, and blonde, though the platinum mane was slowly turning silvery-white with age. The years had finally caught up to Izzy, and one too many injuries had taken their toll on her body, forcing her to retire. Red wasn't sure of her exact age, and it was rude to ask, but he knew she'd been out of the game for almost ten years now. Fortunately, a long career shadowrunning had left her with many connections, and she was willing to spread the love to a younger generation of runner…for a fee, of course.

"Problem?" Izzy asked, her pleasant contralto aloof and yet somehow slightly mocking.

"No." Red gave her a thin-lipped smile. "No problems. How are we doing on that advance?"

The Fixer's answering quirk of her lips was equally bland. She fiddled with her comm. "Just came in. Transferring it to your account…now."

He checked his cred balance in his off-shore account, and quickly set up another transfer, pinging it through several dummy accounts first. "A pleasure as always, Izzy." Red stood up, his chair scraping across the floor of the small pub, and offered her a perfunctory bow.

"I'll tell the other two where to meet you in L.A., yeah?"

"That would be most appreciated," Red replied as his parting shot, and strode out the door, already bringing up his messages and sending a response to Feral. 'Tell your friend his money's there.'

She replied a second later. 'Done. New comm should be ready tomorrow. Don't forget yours!'

As though he needed reminding; scoffing, Red slipped his comm back in his suit pocket, and paced back down Bourbon Street. He had to go about locating some manicotti.

* * *

Switch leaned back against the wall of the Stuffer Shack, one foot propped up against the brick, his hoodie pulled up as usual nearly completely hiding his violet hair, and his hands were stuffed in his pockets. He looked like any other street punk just killing time, but behind his dark lenses he was scanning the profiles of everyone that passed by in front of him. His clock ticked down another minute, and he sighed as he glanced back over to the bike rack at the club across the street. In a few minutes time someone should be riding up on a mountain bike with a little yellow, lidded basket hooked to the handlebars - easy enough to walk past, open slightly, and slip his comm request into it. Not a problem, he'd done it a million times before. SINless would recognize him from whatever it was that they were using to monitor their locations, and his commlink would be in his LockShip box probably within two hours max. If that were the case, he could have one of the SINs already made up before he even left Atlanta, cutting back on the time crunch a bit.

The bike pulled up right on time, and the rider (face hidden by a scarf, hat, and glasses) chained it up to the rack and made her way into the club. Switch lounged around for a few extra minutes before he casually began to cross the street, taking his time as he fingered the request slip in his pocket. Taking one last glace around at the people milling around the area, he strolled past the bike, very quickly sliding the paper under the basket lid without looking down at it. He made it over to the next block before the tiniest blip flashed at the corner of his PAN, and with a smile, he reached into his pocket again. Another piece of paper was inside, someone having slipped it in without his even knowing - reverse pick-pocketing was cool. He walked yet another block before pulling out his message. 'You'll have it in one hour.'

Switch grinned. It was good being a VIP customer. Now he just needed to wait for word back from Feral that the nuyen was in his account, and he could - _groan_ - give 'Carn a call. He got the message about forty minutes later that they were good to go. "Be strong, Switch. You will _not_use that nuyen for food. Feral promised you manicotti. You can wait a few days. Nine days. Over a week..." He shook his head and made himself key in to 'Carn's line.

"SWITCH!"

He flinched at the high-pitched squeal in his ear. "Kiki, what did I tell you about screaming in my brain?" he scolded.

She, of course, ignored him. "Where have you been, mister? We haven't heard from you in ages! I was getting all worried. I think maybe even Mr. Incarnate was a little concerned, but he would never tell."

"Yeah. I'm sure he was losing a lot of sleep over it," Will muttered. "Listen, Kiki, I need some heavy work done, and fast. If you want to take down the details-"

"Nuh-uh, I don't have to!" she said, perky as ever. "Mr. Incarnate is right here!"

"No, don't bother him, I'm sure it'll be fine if you just-"

'Carn's image appeared in his vision smugly munching on apple.

"Hoi, Switch. Long time, no see. Thought your idiot self finally got you dead."

Switch let his head thunk down on the little table he was sitting at in the corner of his room. "No, not dead. Yet. I might be after this next job, though."

"And that's why you're calling in the big guns, huh?" 'Carn answered smugly. "Can't handle the job all by yourself?"

"Not when there's six SINs involved...that I need in nine days."

He grinned when 'Carn choked a little bit before managing to swallow. Seemed there was a little perk in all this, after all.

"Six? In nine days? Who the hell put you up to _that_? And how the hell were you stupid enough to agree to it?"

"Crazy people. And it's not as bad as it seems. Two photo swaps, two standards, two top-notch."

"How top-notch?" And there it was. 'Carn was already slipping into business mode. It was funny that he only asked about those last two, knowing that was his job before Will could even spit out the details.

"As top as it gets. We're hitting someone...kinda big. These SINs need to be perfect. As in, more perfect than your usual annoyingly high bar."

'Carn clicked his tongue a couple times in thought. "That's gonna be pricey, omae. You know that, right?"

A quick glance at the number floating around in front of his face had Switch sighing again. All that nuyen was about to be gone. "I've got the cred. I've also got comms on the way."

"How 'on the way' are we talking? If you're only giving me nine days..."

"Less, actually. I need to have them done before I head out to LA, and I'll still need at least a day down there to do the photo-swaps."

With an irritated shake of his head, 'Carn repeated the question in a different way. "So are you bringing me the comms today? I need 'em like now, Switch. Actually, I needed 'em five minutes _before_now."

Will hesitated. This was the part 'Carn wasn't going to like. "Actually, I'm kind of in Atlanta. It'll be a couple days before I can get the blanks and get up there. You'll have to start without them and store them on-"

"You want me to build these super perfect SINs into the data stream," 'Carn deadpanned. "No. You're an idiot. And no."

"'Carn, I need this. Please. I can't afford to buy the comms off you." He could see that the man wasn't moved by his pleading. Big surprise there.

Well, as much as he hated to do it, it was time to play on the guy's ego. "Come on, 'Carn, you and I both know even the best sniffers couldn't track down your files. You're too good for that. I wouldn't have even asked you if I thought you couldn't do it."

Annnnd there it was, the smallest twitch of a smile on the elf's face. "You're probably right, but still, that's a high risk situation you're putting me into." He paused for a minute in thought, then shook the apple at Switch as he spoke. "Tell you what. You pay me half the price of some shiny new comms, I'll build the SINs straight into those, and you can just trade me for the ones you've got when you get here. Sound good?"

Will checked that obnoxious little number again. He'd have to dip into his own personal dwindling funds to do that... "Can we spring for a third of the price?" The hard look 'Carn was giving him said otherwise. "Fine. I'm not going to be able to eat for a week, I hope you know that."

"Not my problem, princess," 'Carn said with a shrug, then purposely took a big bite out of his juicy red apple. "Give Kiki the deets, I'll take a look and get you a total, and as soon as you wire me the cred I'll get jumping on this."

"Fine," Switch mumbled as he was clicked back over to a smiling AI.

She turned her head for a second, looking at something Switch couldn't see, then whispered into her comm. "Don't worry, Switch, I'll make sure you won't starve."

He couldn't help but let out an appreciative little laugh. "Thanks, Kiki. You're the best."

"I know! Now how about those deets?"

Smiling, he rattled off the information that 'Carn would need, doing his best not to think about the 'you owe me your soul for this' amount he'd no doubt get in return.

* * *

"Sometimes I wonder if my brain can turn into a puddle of goo and come sliding out of my ears from boredom," Teva murmured to her friend a couple days later. She shifted on the couch, picked her nails, and then lifted her eyes to her companion.

Madden offered her a fond, thin-lipped grin, and put down his comm. He was the only one she made the exception for in her apartment. Madden could play around on the nets while he visited because Madden knew how to be polite about it. He didn't sit there the whole time ignoring her in favor of fantasies. The tall troll smiled, dwarfing her battered blue recliner. Sometimes she wondered that it didn't break under the sheer bulk of him. "You are from the city, but not really of it, I think. You should move to the countryside."

"What the hell would I do there?" she snapped. "Take up gardening? Oh yeah, that's the life for me." Teva rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't know what to do with all that peace and solitude," the adept finally admitted to him. "What would I have to bitch about then? 'The grass is too green today, the air is too clean, my property keeps accumulating more and more stray cats'," she mocked herself, her voice mincing and bitter. "I'd have to start a fight club using my barn as the ring. 'The first rule of fight club is you don't talk about fight club'." She started laughing at the confused look that Madden shot her. "It's an old film," Teva finally threw him a bone.

"Fight Club? Is it good?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. The long brown tail he kept his hair in slithered across one massive shoulder and disappeared as it fell behind him.

"Only amazing! This guy… Wait, no, I'm not gonna tell you. We're just gonna have to watch it. That's really the only way to experience it. Unless you read the book, which is even better," Teva babbled excitedly, sitting up and leaning forward, closer and closer as she became caught up in the subject.

Madden lifted a dark eyebrow, the petite, matte bone protrusions above it climbing higher as well, each of them like a little row of mountains on his face, hills and valleys carved in a subtle ivory.

The thought occurred to her that if Tamsin had still been living her sister would have wanted to paint that terrible beauty, to, in her words, immortalize it on canvas.

"You are a strange woman, Teva," Madden finally stated.

She knew his name, of course, but for some reason she always thought of him as Madden first. Probably because she'd been calling him 'Madden' for over a year before they traded names. However, he had adjusted with ease to calling her by her name so long as they weren't working a job, but only in private.

Shrugging, she tossed him a quirky grin, and said, "Yeah, well, normal is boring; I hate being bored." With that, the adept leapt off the couch, and bounded over to her comm. "I forgot that I haven't messaged Switch about the comms we sent off just yet. He's kind of weird too. You'll either like him or punch him 'til his skull caves in."

Feral had almost, almost forgotten the strangeness of their last conversation, and the weird feeling she'd gotten toward the end of it. She was willing to move on from it, to pass it off as paranoia triggered by her kidnapping ordeal so long as Switch didn't give her any more weirdness that fed the niggling uncertainty.

She brought up the menu on her comm, and sent out a call.

* * *

The Liberator ran his hands over the wooden wall in front of him, looking for that one little imperfection that he needed to apply pressure to. His extra sensitive fingers lighted across the thinnest crack in the wood, and he traced it along until he identified the full outline of the invisible panel. No bigger than his palm, he pressed inwards on the trigger until it clicked once. He paused, listening for any other sound, and when there was none he pressed further until it clicked again. Still no other reaction. Holding his breath he began to push it in a little more.

His PAN alerted him to an incoming call, startling him slightly. He blew out the breath he was holding, glad his steady hands hadn't reacted to the start. If he had pushed that panel too fast and it had missed its mark, the alarms would've gone off.

"Not now," he whispered, shutting down the call as the panel clicked again. This time he was rewarded with the sound of some wall halfway across the maze he was in sliding into a new position.

The call signal came again. Normally he would've turned off his communication system when dealing with being inside the SIN node, but he'd left it on in case 'Carn had any questions or some emergency came up on Feral's end...which is apparently who his obnoxious caller was.

"This better be fucking important," he hissed as his greeting, peering around the corner into the hall he now had to backtrack down to get to the part in the maze where he'd heard the wall move. He couldn't afford to be caught by one of Dr. Shin's security drones running around, and talking to one of the League morons was an unnecessary distraction he really didn't need right now, not when he was so close.

Seeing nothing in his immediate path, he quickly and silently dashed down the hall as he waited for her to tell him what was so damn important.

"Don't be a dick," she replied easily, "I just figured you'd like to know that the comms are on their way to your box. You know, good communication and everything. We're teammates now!" Feral's voice somehow managed to be both sugary sweet and sarcastic, and in the minuscule living room Madden started rumbling out a laugh.

He'd turned on the trid, and flipped directly to his guilty pleasure: Spanish soap operas. A 3D sim of a pretty Latina girl was babbling earnestly at somebody she kept calling 'mi novio.'

"You sound grumpy," Teva noted. "Everything okay?"

Liberator rolled his eyes, and ducked behind another wall just as three security drones rolled around the corner. He'd been trapped in the maze for hours now, but the prize was close at hand.

"It _would _be okay if you'd let me do my job," he whispered as he crept along, crouching low as he walked, his muscles tense and ready to throw himself down another hall if he needed to. That last wall he moved should've been it, nothing more than drones in his path keeping him from taking the weapon Dr. Shin was keeping in his secret lair. Of course, there were always that many more drones posted around the target, keeping it safe from people like him. He'd have to take them out fast or they'd bring the whole fucking guard down on him.

And here was fucking Feral interrupting the process just to tell him she'd mailed him some fucking comms?

He turned another corner just as a heavily-armored tank drone rolled into the same hall in front of him.

"Fuck!" he hissed and sprinted ahead, pulling out his Liberator Lasergun as he did. He pointed it at the drone and fired, hoping to take out the bot before it could give him away.

"Let you…? Jeez, somebody's got their panties in a bunch. So what _are_ you doing anyway?" She picked a lint ball off her t-shirt and rolled it between her fingers thoughtfully before balancing it on the tip of her index, and blowing it away. "'Cause to me it just sounds like you're being snippy with me on a phone call for no apparent reason; I've been nothing but polite," Teva pointed out, reaching in the breast pocket on her baggy t-shirt for her cigarettes. She lit up while she waited for Switch's response.

The bot lay smoking at The Liberator's feet as he worked at tying off the bleeding graze on his arm. Reacting to the immediate threat, the drone had opened fire in an attempt to defend itself as opposed to signaling the other guardians. The Lasergun's shot had hit first, sending the drone's aim off enough to prevent Liberator from being blasted out of Dr. Shin's maze. It wasn't a bad hit by any means, and while normally running around bleeding wouldn't bother him in the slightest, he was in Dr. Shin's territory trying not to leave a trail. Blood left a _definite_trail, something he couldn't risk. It was better to take the time to clamp that off now instead of trying to clean up the evidence of his being there later.

Feral's casual question irked him. Seriously, how was it that these Tagalongs didn't understand the severity of these types of situations?

"I'm doing the job you League losers hired me on for. What the fuck else would I be doing?" he snapped. He made it down the hall, and as he peered cautiously around the next corner he realized he was looking into the heart of the maze. The weapon, a simple little box that could hold a person's very soul, sat within a clear encasing. There was an indentation in the shape of a scroll carved into the wooden pedestal beneath the box, something that looked like just a decorative etching to anyone who didn't know better. To The Liberator, though, it represented a lock that required the right key, the key he just happened to have. All he had to do was insert that key (which, in the real world, was all the information about his inspector persona that needed to be logged into the system), and steal the weapon (the registered SIN number).

The problem was that there were no less than seven drones moving in and out of the room through various entrances at a time. If he had any hope of reaching that box, he'd need to take out all of them.

This called for a little smoke and mirrors.

He reached into his belt and pulled out a few Liberator...

Frowning, he ducked back into the hallway and did something he very rarely ever did once inside the VR world - he dropped character.

"Hey, Feral. Do you know a good 'L' word for like a smoke bomb?"

Just when she was about to tear him a new asshole (verbally; physical abuse would have to wait for later), something changed and he was back to his normal(ish) self. His question surprised her, and she was quiet for a long moment, running through all the words she knew that might suit. "Layer?" she finally offered up. "Sorry, man. I'm a little stumped. That's the best I've got."

She slumped against her kitchen counter, and blew a smoke ring at the ceiling. The view was decidedly unentertaining. Grabbing a package of chips off the table, Teva ripped it open and paced back into the living room. The sound of Spanish histrionics grew louder. "So…" she laughed as two women in the holo started cat-fighting, "What are you wearing?" The question was asked in a deliberately over-the-top seductive voice.

Madden started laughing, and reached for the chips, snatching the bag right out of her hands as she sat down on the broken down tan couch once more.

She gaped at him, pointed a menacing finger, and then warned him, "Don't make me turn your bitches off."

In reply, he tipped the bag so the opening faced her.

Teva grabbed a handful, and kicked up her feet on the coffee table, crossing her legs at the ankles. "I hope it's something sexy," she laughed. "Red lingerie? Can you be cliché, and tell me you're wearing red lingerie? I've always wanted somebody to say that."

Madden slapped his thighs, and she warned him to stay silent by miming zipping her lips closed. He clapped a hand over his mouth, but his shoulders shook with merriment.

He wasn't alone; Teva was having a hard time not bursting out into hysterical laughter. She could only imagine how pissed Switch was going to be when he finally thought up a response.

"What?" Switch finally spat out.

He had been busy contemplating the 'Layer' name, mulling it over in his head, but it didn't seem right. He was just about to ask for maybe a flash bomb name instead - it'd do the same trick, blinding the drones - when Feral had asked him what he was wearing. The question threw him off enough as it was, but then when she started going into red lingerie he found himself at a complete loss for words.

"No...I'm in...in my Liberator unifor- oh, crap!"

He hadn't been paying attention. One of the inner bots had meandered its way out into his hall, and this one _did _decide to alert its buddies.

Switch's face fell into a look of distraught failure, but just when he was about to pack it in and log out, his Liberator mode kicked back into gear. He had spent too many fucking hours in this node to turn back now. He was right fucking there. He could do this.

In his most threatening sounding Liberator voice, he ground out his code:

"Rule #2: Never say die until you're actually dead, then hold out a little longer 'cause some bitch may be able to bring your dead ass back."

He squinted his eyes at the oncoming wave of bots, and grabbing his Liberator Links in one hand, Liberator Lance in the other, he charged the mini army. He was getting that fucking SIN.

By the time Switch responded, Teva had a mouthful of chips, and she almost didn't hear what he said next. When she did catch it, the adept's eyebrows went up as the lightbulb clicked on. Swallowing hurriedly, Feral asked, "Switch, what are you doing? Are you in the nets right now? Jesus H! Why didn't you say something?"

Rolling her eyes, she puffed on her cigarette and growled disgustedly, "Men. Worst communicators ever."

Madden looked up at her curiously, but she waved him off. The trid showed an older woman now babbling at a younger man, and from the creepy kiss they shared, Teva got the feeling that she was not his mother.

"I'm gonna let you go. Have fun saving the world. If you get in a jam, call me. Not that I'll be much help, but I could always go punch some people's faces in." With that, she disconnected the call.

"What's up?" Madden rumbled.

"Idiot didn't tell me he was actually doing something really important, so here I am all distracting him and shit, and who the fuck knows what he was actually doing? Why are guys so dumb?" Teva grumbled.

"It's like a law of nature," the troll responded calmly, "We have to be dumb, otherwise we'd have too many advantages over women."

Feral glared at him. "Asshole," she muttered, and turned back to the trid, firmly set on ignoring him as punishment for awhile.

* * *

Switch logged out and blew out a long, shaky breath. The Liberator had to pull out all the stops on that one, but he'd succeeded.

"One down," he sighed, picking up the commlink and sliding it back into the pocket protector pouch that came with it. That was coincidentally perfect, actually. It fit the whole 'inspector' theme pretty damn well.

With a groan, he took off his visor and rubbed his hands over his face. God, he was tired...and hungry. He still had to hang out here until the shipment came in, then travel to FDC, and then get from there to LA, though. In order to afford that, he'd have to make do on light snacks or something 'til he got to 'Carn's, where Kiki would make sure he ate something.

Or, to save himself those few extra nuyen in case something unexpected came up...

He slipped the visor back on, leaving a quick message for Feral before he did anything else:

"In the Matrix. Meshed in. Jacked in. In AR or VR. Not 'the nets.' And you shipped those comms express, right?"

Then he logged back into VR and found himself a nice, fancy virtual steakhouse. With his simsense on, he'd just trick his body into thinking it was full, and he could enjoy the taste of 'real' food while he was at it. Not a problem. He'd go to sleep thinking he'd just gotten done consuming a Thanksgiving feast.

"How many, sir?"

"Uh, one, please," he responded, his Caleb Knox persona suited up in full debonair fashion.

"Very good, right this way."

'Knox' followed the host to his table, smiling at his own clever method of saving himself some money.

* * *

Feral heard the message sometime later, after Madden had left and the trid was silent. She'd decided a long, rambling walk through Treme and maybe down to the Quarter was in order. It was ladies night at Crank, and they usually had a pretty decent band on stage then. Nothing cheered her up quite like good music, some dancing, and a drink.

She got all dressed up, and yeah, she totally looked like a girl. It was possible. No one was going to suspect that she was the runner, Feral. Not unless they already knew what she looked like.

Teva checked her comm a second before she slipped it in her jacket pocket, and snorted. Oh, it was so on. She tapped out a reply. 'Glad you got back from the nets safely! And yes, express.'

With a snicker, she shoved her comm in her pocket, and slipped out the front door. Now if she'd been in the country, she would have just gone crazy from boredom. At least there was stuff in the city.

* * *

**TBC…**


	3. Chapter 3

Murphy's Law

Chapter 3

* * *

Fandom: Shadowrun

Pairings: Mostly Gen with a dash of Feral/Red for your angsty delights, oh, and some brief Feral/Ghost

Rating: R

Warnings: violence, gore, mentions of cannibalism, homosexuality, rape, attempted rape, insanity

Archive: Ask

Author: Alex Kade and Lily Zen

* * *

Notes: You know what would be totally awesome? I've noticed that people who read these stories are kind of shy. It would be such an awesome thing for me and my partner in crime if you guys could just drop us a line, a follow, or favorite to let us know that you enjoy reading the fruits of our labors. Seriously, that would be much appreciated by the both of us.

Disclaimer: Shadowrun belongs to Shadowrun peoples. Original characters belong to us.

* * *

Switch was in a bit of a daze as he stepped off the train in FDC. He had slept almost the entire way there but he still felt like he had no energy. Being back in his home territory, it was almost as if he could just waltz back into his corp world, say hi to Henry, grab a sandwich from the kitchen, and go hole up in his bedroom for the next sixty days.

_You can't do that anymore, Will._

He sighed, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets and making sure his pack was secure on his shoulders. Turning away from the direction of what _was_home, he headed to the only place he had left to go - 'Carn's.

Kiki met him at the door with her usual exuberance.

"Hey, Kik," he mumbled, offering her a half-assed wave as he slipped through the door, practically dragging his feet as he meandered towards the couch. He dropped his bag onto the table a little more recklessly than he should have considering the fact that all his important gear was in there, and pretty much just face-planted into the cushions. One arm unconsciously snaked around a pillow and pulled it close to his chest.

"Switch, are you okay?" the little AI asked, doing her best to peer over his shoulder in an attempt to catch a glimpse of his face.

"Mm-hmm," he answered lazily. "Just tired."

She hesitated for a second. "Are you hungry?"

There was a long moment when he didn't answer before finally admitting, "I don't know..."

"How do you not know if you're hungry or not?" she asked, perturbed. "When was the last time you ate, mister?"

Again, it took him a while to answer. "...I don't know? I had...no, that was a sim...so was that..."

Kiki stomped her foot on the ground. "Switch! Humans can't survive on sim food! You know better than that! You stay awake, you hear me? I'm getting you something right now!"

"Mm-hmm."

He passed out pretty much as soon as she left the room.

'Carn stayed holed up in the workshop for the next few days perfecting the comms Switch had ordered, which was lucky for Will because that meant he could crash out in the back right under his host's nose without being charged room and board.

Switch worked on completing Feral's SIN as soon as he could think clearly enough to do it without messing something up, making for another sleepless day. Kiki took care of both her boys, making sure they both ate (though Switch still pretty much only picked at what she gave him - he _so_hated the soy knock-off crap), and got rest as needed.

* * *

Little known fact: Feral hated flying.

She sat wedged between Red and Madden, clutching a hand a piece, and making a visible effort to not have a full-blown panic attack.

For the fifth time Red leaned in close and whispered, "Sarah, are you sure you don't want a downer?"

Who was Sarah?

Oh yeah, that was her. Sarah Jones had been Teva's fake SIN for almost her entire life. Technically, it was her, but it really wasn't. Sarah Jones paid taxes, and worked for a shell corporation owned by Red. She'd gone to school, and had a pet turtle named Freud.

Teva shook her head, and squeezed his hand harder in retaliation. She didn't like that shit, the downers, especially not when she was on a Run. It took awhile to work through her system, and while it did she struggled with the fog wrapped around her brain. Her reflexes slowed, her judgment became skewed; she didn't like it at all, not when her life, and sometimes the lives of others depended on her being able to move with hardly a fraction of a pause. She had slapped on her prescribed anti-anxiety patch, but that really just took the edge off and kept her from trying to fling herself out the emergency exit. It didn't make the fear go away, not completely.

"Alright already," Red hissed, "Relax before you break something."

She tried to, really, she did. It wasn't like she wanted to be afraid of planes. It was stupid and inconvenient. The likelihood of dying in a plane crash was much less significant than the likelihood of, say, getting hit by a car. Teva knew all that. Her brain logically understood it. That didn't make her feel any fucking better the second she stepped foot on a plane.

It wasn't as bad when it was in the heat of the moment, like the time she was being chased and shot at by four guards through an office building. The helicopter had dropped just low enough that she could see it out of the big plate glass window. She'd shot the glass out, taken a giant leap, and crashed inside the aircraft. Her body had been flooded with too much adrenaline and elation to feel the fear just then. It wasn't until they were half way to the rendezvous, and her levels got back to normal that the anxiety seemed to sink in. Even then, it wasn't as terrible as it was right then.

Teva's mind was whirling with thoughts. What if something malfunctioned, and there was a mad dash to get to the exits? What if someone stole her flotation device? What if they couldn't land in water? What then? Were there parachutes?

The flight attendant was back, bending a pair of tits so huge and high that Teva knew they had to be fake over Red's lap. She smiled, glossed lips shiny in the strange airplane lights, and wondered, "Miss, are you alright? Can I get you something?"

She was much too close, and her bubblegum flavored breath and vanilla perfume seemed to be sucking up all the available oxygen in their part of the plane. Making an effort to be civil, Teva offered the woman with her aqua blue hair pulled back in a tight bun a small smile. "No thanks," she managed to get out between gritted teeth.

"Are you sure?" she repeated the offer.

That time the most Teva could make herself do was nod stiffly.

The flight attendant turned her attention to Red, who had been her true target since they'd set foot on the aircraft. "And you, sir? Anything I can…do for you?"

Rolling her eyes, Teva turned to her left and shared a look with Madden.

He snickered, and shrugged, no doubt used to being ignored by the ladies when Red was around.  
She could admit that Red cut a nice figure in a suit, and he had kind of a pretty face, and his self-assured air was sort of intriguing, but really the amount of fawning the stewardess was doing was completely unprofessional. Why not just ask him if he'd like to become a member of the Mile High Club? The thought was laden with disgust.

"Nothing to drink? No pillow? A blanket? I could—"

Teva snapped. "Look, lady, he said no," she growled. "If he changes his mind, he will put the call light on like a good little passenger. Now go away before I rip your head off, and shit down your neck!"

The flight attendant went wide-eyed. Her jaw worked soundlessly. Like she was just noticing, she looked down and caught sight of Teva's hand white-knuckling Red's. It didn't seem to matter that she was doing the same thing to the troll on her other side. People tended to see only what they wanted to see. "I'm so sorry," the woman gasped, "I had no idea! I swear. I—I didn't mean to offend you."

For a moment, Teva was very obviously confused.

Red's lips started twitching.

Madden had his mouth hidden behind one massive fist, and he may have been biting on his thumb.

"You just—" the woman's eyes dropped again, lingering on their entwined hands.

Teva followed her gaze. It hit her all of the sudden just what the flight attendant had assumed, what she was implying. Her eyes narrowed. The instinct to deny it was immediate. However, the instinct to get this buxom walking vacuum away from her was stronger. She played right into it, spitting out, "Don't seem like his type? I know he's totally slumming it." Giving into her inner turmoil (about the plane, not about Red; there was no turmoil there), she let her eyes fill with tears. "You think I don't know that? It doesn't help that other women are constantly sniffing around him, and he's such a flirt. It's giving me a complex!" Teva sniffled once or twice, ignoring Madden's shaking shoulders jostling her on her other side.

"Sarah, please," Red stated, obviously jumping on this bandwagon because why the hell not? It was making an unbearable flight with little to no feeling in his hand slightly more tolerable. "We've talked about this. You know you're the only one for me," he pleaded, and goddamn if his voice wasn't completely earnest.

Teva let out a little cry, and clapped her hands over her eyes, hunching over and heaving like she was crying.

The flight attendant burst out with a hurried apology, and followed it up by saying, "You know, I dated a guy like that too, and I have to say I completely understand what you're feeling right now. I am so, so sorry. If I'd had any idea… God, if there's anything I can do just let me know." She bowed and backed away quickly, almost stumbling in her haste to escape Sarah's hysterics.

As soon as she disappeared into the back, Red poked her arm. "You can stop now, though I would definitely give you an award winning performance."

Sitting up again, she delicately dotted away the moisture in her eyes, and clasped her hands in her lap. "Thank you," Teva replied. "I felt like it was pretty good."

Red lifted an eyebrow at her.

"What? She was sucking up all the oxygen, and leaving bubblegum scented carbon dioxide in its wake."

Madden started guffawing. "Sarah's a crazy bitch," he gasped out breathlessly between peals of laughter.

Red, of course, joined him, laughing until he slouched bonelessly in his seat.

Teva crossed her arms over her chest. "You guys, this is serious. What if we ran out of oxygen? That would be a horrible way to die. On a plane no less! A plane that might not have parachutes! You don't understand."

This, of course, only relaunched the joint giggle-fit.

"And why are there no trees on this plane? Somebody should contact the FAA about this immediately. That would solve the oxygen problem…"

* * *

'Carn, to no surprise, finished the job exactly on schedule, and meandered out of the workshop looking pretty much like a zombie just come back from the dead. He stopped in his tracks when he got a good look at Switch, who was lounging around on the usual lobby couch.

"You still look like shit," 'Carn greeted.

Switch scoffed. "Says the guy who's been in VR for almost a week straight. And what do you mean 'still'?"

'Carn shot him a wicked smile. "Really, Switch? You think I didn't come out of there once in a while and notice you squatting in my pad? Guy's gotta piss some time, ya know."

Closing his eyes, Switch let out a heavy sigh. "How much do I owe you?"

Kiki leaned towards 'Carn and stood up on her toes so she could whisper (loudly) in his ear. "Mr. Incarnate, I don't think Switch has any more nuyen to give you right now."

That wicked smile on 'Carn's face turned downright evil. "I know. Dumbass doesn't pretend like he can live on sim food because he wants to." He walked over and placed the two completed comms on the table in front of Switch. "You'll just have to owe me a favor."

"What kind of favor?" The twinkle in 'Carn's eyes was starting to scare Will a little bit.

"I don't know yet, but you'll be the first to know when I figure it out. Trust me, though, I don't waste favors. It'll be something good."

Will frowned. "Great," he muttered sarcastically.

"Also," Incarnate lowered himself to the edge of the table, "I did _one _other thing for you that you're gonna owe me for."

Now Switch was even more scared. When 'Carn voluntarily did things for people, it usually wound up being something they didn't actually want. Then again, sometimes the universe would toss him a bone once in a while. "You got me an advance copy of The Knights of Nebulon?"

"No, lame-brain, you can do that yourself. What I did for you, my friend, is give you a little extra edge so you maybe won't die on this Run."

Will eyed him warily. "...Why do you think I need an extra edge?"

"Please. You make me build you SINs of this caliber. You're going to LA. Maybe you're doing what I think you're doing, and maybe you're not. I don't know. If you are, you're going to need what I gave you. If not, well, you'll have it in case of emergencies. Who knows, maybe with this you can actually beat me in a hack challenge."

Switch's heart started to race. "You didn't, 'Carn."

"You can thank me later."

Switch jumped to his feet, panic setting in. "I don't want it! If I wanted it, I'd have gotten it myself. Undo it!"

'Carn sat back, giving Switch probably the most serious look he'd ever given the younger hacker. "Switch, listen to me. If you want to start hitting the big boys, you need to play like one of the big boys. You can't get in there safely without it."

"I've been doing just fine so far," Will argued.

"But you've never beat me in a game, Switch. You've never beat me because you won't take that next step. Now maybe you can get by on this Run without it, I'm not saying it's impossible, but I figured I'd better give you the option in case you needed it. I'd hate to lose one of my best suckers, ya know? I make a lot of nuyen off you."

Will sank down on the couch again. "Please, 'Carn, reverse it."

"No. That's what you get for passing out on my couch because your dumbass didn't eat. It was like drawing on your face, but better. Now take your comms and get out of here. You've got a flight to catch, don't you?"

'Carn didn't give him a chance to protest any further, instead just getting up and slipping into the back rooms to catch some much needed sleep. Switch stared into space for several long seconds, his mind reeling, until Kiki sat beside him and gave him a hug.

"It's for the best, you know," she told him gently, her cheek pressed against his shoulder. "And you don't ever have to use it if you don't want to. No one can turn it on or off but you."

He nodded absently, the fear and anger over what 'Carn had done warring inside of him. Checking the time, he realized it was too late to do anything about it now. He'd have to do the Run with the tampered implant, but as soon as he was through he'd get it fixed. He didn't want it. There was no way in hell he'd ever use his sim mod Hot. No way. He'd show 'Carn he could do this Run just fine in Cold sim, just like always, and when he got back he was making the jerk put his implant back to normal. Hot was never supposed to be an option.

"I have to go," he practically whispered to the AI, whose arms were still wrapped around him. "Thanks for, you know, everything."

She released him. "Come back safe, okay?"

Without another word he picked up his things and headed out the door.

* * *

Feral went back to hand clutching about twenty minutes later after the humor from the encounter with the flight attendant had worn off, and the anxiety had found its way back to the forefront of her mind.

Madden told her stories, because Madden was awesome and had decided that distraction was the best way to deal with her. Sometimes it helped, other times she just wanted to smack the shit out of him.

Red tried to get her to take some downers four more times, and would periodically shake his hand out in front of her in a most exaggerated motion. Teva called him a pussy. Several times.

Finally, the interminable flight ended, and after a harrowing landing where Teva almost hyperventilated, they were allowed off the commercial flight.

She didn't throw herself down on the airport floor and hug it, but it was a near thing.

…They managed to get her out at baggage claim before she hugged a pillar in happiness. The cabbie gave them some really odd looks as Teva slid in the back seat.

Red gave the driver the address to the rendezvous location, and clutched the arm rest as the driver took off far too quickly to be safe, promptly almost running down a pedestrian in the crosswalk. He glanced over at Teva, who was sitting there calmly picking her nails and checking the messages on her comm, cool as cucumber, and utterly unaffected by the dangerous driving. He shook his head at her, to which she raised her eyebrows inquiringly. The redhead just gave her another disgusted head shake and turned to look out the window as the scenery, such as it was, flew by.

The motel was in Inglewood, which wasn't too far from the airport. It was a shitty, dangerous neighborhood a little south of L.A. proper. The area was rife with gangers, but the thing about gangers was that they tended to have good survival instincts. Not a lot of them would go up against a huge ass troll like Madden. A guy like Red might have had more problems, but they usually vanished if he busted out some magical party favors. Strangely, Feral always had the least amount of issues moving around in places like these. Yeah, she was a cute little thing, but slum-kids recognized their own. They had a look in their eye that said 'I fucking dare you,' and a way of walking that was part cockiness, part nonchalance. She was always more relaxed in neighborhoods like this than any of her other teammates. As a result, most of its denizens tended not to bother her.

Both she and Madden rented rooms in the front office. The clerk was tired-looking dwarf with coke-bottle glasses, but they could still see his eyes light up behind the dirty lenses when he saw the wad of cash—real, hard cash—that Madden and Feral handed him.

"Can't believe I have to share," Teva grumbled as they left with keys.

"Hey, I have to share with Red. Do you have any idea how long he takes in the bathroom?" Madden shot back.

"Maybe I can share with Switch," the adept mumbled under her breath. "At least I kind of know what I'm in for then. This chick—what's her name?—is an unknown. Maybe she likes to run around in the nuddy-pants. Maybe she's going to try and kill me like my last roommate. I don't know, I'm just not comfortable with this."

Madden shoved her toward the door to her room, grinning. "You're certainly high-strung today."

"I'm high-strung every day," Teva snapped. "It's just that nobody usually notices." Unlocking the door, she stepped in, flipped her friend off, and said, "Tell Red I think it's really sexist that he's having the chicks room together."

"Will do," Madden replied, and snapped off a crappy salute.

She slammed the door in his face and messaged Switch. 'Where are you? Wanna be my roomie, roomie? Btw, have a cold pack with your manicotti.'

* * *

Switch was lost in thought - _drowning _in it if he wanted to be honest with himself - when Feral's message came in, bringing him back to the real world and away from his nagging paranoia about his modified sim mod.

He smiled at the mention of his beloved manicotti waiting for him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had real food...well, aside from that orange that Kiki snuck away from 'Carn's stash. Guy probably would've charged him fifty nuyen for it or something if he'd noticed.

And roomie? Feral actually wanted to room with him? That was a bit of a surprise. He figured she'd want to be as far away from him as possible. That seemed to be the standard reaction from anyone who'd known him longer than a couple weeks. Of course, what he, Cos, Rage, and Feral went through sort of changed the rules a little bit on the standard measures of social interaction, and none of them were exactly 'normal.'

Speaking of rooming, he double-checked the area the motel lived in and shuddered as he realized it had, 'let's kill and dismember the little tech geek' written all over it. Insanely glad they didn't live back in the dinosaur ages when communication wasn't allowed on a plane, he messaged her back, happy for the distraction.

"Plane's about a half hour out. If you promise not to hit me in my sleep I'll room with you, and just the mention of manicotti already has me drooling. Like literally. The person sitting next to me looks a little concerned about it, actually. Also, hate to ask, but if it's not too much trouble - don't laugh at me - Inglewood doesn't exactly look like the sort of place where I can get down a single block by myself without showing up on your doorstep sporting a shiny new stab hole..."

* * *

Teva laughed when she got Switch's message, and briefly paused in booby-trapping the room. Y'know, just in case a psychotic chiphead tried busting down the door or something. "If you're asking for an escort, I don't mind. That's what I'm getting paid to do, after all. Let me know when you're close by. I'll meet you in the motel parking lot by the front office."

After replying to Switch, she called up Red. "Hey, so, I'm rooming with Switch now."

"What?" Red answered, sounding very confused.

"Switch. The tech. You know…manicotti guy?" she drawled, spreading out on the crappy bed.

"Yeah, I know. I'm just confused as to why."

Sighing, Feral replied, "Because Switch is about as dangerous as my fluffy bathrobe, and I know him so I'm not worried about him stabbing me in my sleep. This chick…"

"Rip," Red coolly supplied her street name.

"Yeah, well, I don't know Rip. I'm not going to sleep in a room with her," Feral told her teammate. "She's gonna have to sleep somewhere else. You figure it out." At that, Teva ended the communication. She sat up and shot a pleased smile at the trip wire in front of the door, thankful that it opened out, not in. "Gonna have to warn Switch about that…and the crossbow."

* * *

"Gotta be more clear, Switch," he mumbled to himself, not at all worried about the reaction from the person beside him. That was one of the other reasons he loved the tech age they lived in - no one questioned you when you were talking out loud to yourself because everyone just assumed you were yammering away at someone in your AR feed.

Sighing, he reluctantly sent out another message. She was going to smack him for this one.

"Um...I don't exactly have nuyen for a cab. I was just gonna walk, but I'm thinking if you want your tech intact that might not be such a hot idea."

He flinched inwardly at the mention of the word 'hot.' 'Carn was a jerk.

* * *

The second message sadly made things clearer for her. "I'll meet you at baggage claim," she sent in reply.

Feral grabbed her weapons out of the lead-lined case, and headed out the door, stopping only to knock on the door to Madden and Red's room.

Madden's voice rumbled on the other side. "Who is it?"

"Your mom. Open up, a-hole," she barked. The sound of the chain lock sliding open, and some other locks being undone made her tap her foot impatiently.

"What's up?" Madden asked when he appeared, leaning in the doorway. Red was moving around in the background, but barely paused at her interruption.

"Switch is landing soon, and apparently he's a broke-ass idiot who thinks he's gonna walk here. To keep him from getting killed, I am going to go earn my nuyen and escort him here. So I'll have my comm on if you need me." Madden looked hesitant, and she gave him a look, parted one side of her jacket to reveal the holstered grip of a pistol, and said, "I've got it handled. You guys wait here for the others."

"Be careful," the large troll told her as she turned and began walking across the parking lot, slipping her shades on. She waved dismissively over her shoulder.

* * *

Will took a moment to pull off his hoodie and stuff it down into his pack. The temperature readings had said it'd be warm out, and though normally that wouldn't be enough to risk losing the little shadow over his face that the hood provided, he figured that clear on the other side of the country in a city he'd never been to before, his secret alt probably wouldn't be discovered. What little of his features showed beneath his red-tinted sunglasses, headphones, and stark blue hair that matched the color of his vintage _Back to the Future _car schematics t-shirt, he didn't think anyone walking past would couple his current image with that of the suited up, corrective-lens wearing, politely smiling Will Slate seen in the background trids and images of Damien's press conferences. Plus, he'd lost a little weight since his whole kidnapping ordeal began.

Feral had told him to meet her at the baggage claim area, and he hadn't bothered to inform her that everything he currently had fit into the pack that he'd never dare check. Hackers didn't need any sort of large gear anymore, not like in the early days where everyone had to lug around a deck in order to function. His Liberator uniform and gear, the comms, basic overnight needs, and a week's worth of light clothing (thank god they weren't going anywhere cold!) were all resting on his shoulders at the moment. That'd probably make her happy. She wouldn't be forced to wait for his stuff to come rolling off the ramp after already having to make the trip back to the airport to come get him.

As he neared the exit, he sent ahead a little message.

"One tech geek coming right up. If you wanted fries with your order, I'm sorry to inform you that we're all out. Don't kill the messenger."

* * *

Baggage claim was stupid. Everybody sat around the carousels waiting for their shit to pop up out of the hole—their shit, which had no doubt been grossly mishandled the entire trip; they were lucky that nothing in Feral's bags had gone off, the bag-jostling douchenozzles—mooing about how long the flight had been, and how they just wanted their stuff. The thing that she found incredible was that everyone rushed down there straight from the plane, knowing that it would be at least one prior flight before their stuff would come through…and everybody just stood about bleating.

They should really request more shit to do in baggage claim. Some food stands, more bathrooms, y'know? Fuck the main terminal. People just rushed through there because they were busy trying to get to their flights!

Feral stuck a cigarette in her mouth, and an airport employee at the service kiosk shot her a look. She glared right back. "Relax. It's not lit, is it?"

Then she spotted her target about to walk right past her, though she almost missed him because the hair was such a crazy blue, much different from the brown he'd worn when she first met him.  
Her comm started bleating a chorus with the sheep standing around the carousels. She ignored it, having a good idea who the message was from.

With a couple of long strides, she made her way over. "Hey!" Feral waved and grinned, jumping up and down to catch Switch's attention before he went out the door.

Switch turned around and offered up a little sheepish smile as he noticed Feral waving him down.

"Heh, figured you'd be waiting outside avoiding...this..." He gestured at the sheep milling around waiting for their bags. He pulled at one of the straps on his bag. "I packed light, so we can escape the flock whenever you're ready."

Teva tipped her head to the side, laughing a little as she listened to Switch make the same comparison out loud that she'd just thought about. She nodded, and fell in step beside him, letting him set the pace. She was too used to walking, and as such she tended to be a little quicker about it than some people. "Hell to the yeah, let's get out of here."

She waved cockily at the kiosk worker as they headed outside, and promptly lit her cigarette.

Teva didn't know why she was such a pain in the ass. She just knew that when people tried to tell her no, she almost immediately had an inexplicable urge to grind their noses in it while shouting 'yes!' There was definitely some weird psychological shit going on there. _Oh well,_ she thought, _add it to the pile of weird psychological shit I've got going on._

"Soooo," she drawled, exhaling smoke like a dragon, "You look like shit, Skeletor. I'm not saying that to be a bitch though. I just wanna know if you're okay to do the job otherwise—how did you put it?—I'll have to go pick up a chiphead from Hackers 'R Us." Feral offered him a little grin and a playful nudge with her elbow to hopefully let him know that she wasn't just being critical. There was almost—cringe—concern in the undercurrent of her words.

He ducked his head a little, glad she couldn't see the semi-dark circles under his eyes behind his glasses.

"I'm good," he casually answered, offering up a smile that he hoped looked reassuring. "Just kind of getting used to this whole not being able to go home thing." He shrugged it off and changed the subject, talking a little cryptically in case any prying ears were listening in while they walked the streets. "So I got something a little fancier for the subcontractors. They're standard issue for the company - the real deal - and brand new. There shouldn't be any reason to question them, but just in case they run a check, all the bells and whistles are there. My guy worked on them all week so there won't be any flaws. Take 'perfect' and multiply that by some randomly obscure number, and that's what we've got. I did ours, myself - which, thanks for calling me right in the middle of that, by the way, made that job ten times more fun! I'll jump on the other two as soon as you put them in my grabby hands."

"That is awesome," Teva agreed, "Red will be very pleased. He might even get you more real food. That's what he does when I do something good." She chuckled, and ran her fingers through her short hair self-consciously. "Look, fair warning, Red can be kind of an ass, but whatever he's got instead of a heart is in the right place. If he says something douchey just ignore it."

Feral flicked her ash onto the sidewalk. "Oh, and hey, I'm sorry about calling you right in the middle of your thing…but you know, you should have told me that you were in the middle of something critical. I wouldn't have been offended. I mean, when I say that I have no idea about the breadth and scope of what it is you do, I totally mean it. Me and computers are like…smashing two rocks together and hoping they'll merge." For emphasis, she let her smoke dangle between pursed lips, and smacked the palms of her hands together a couple times, keeping her hands stiff so it was fairly obvious she wasn't just clapping to make celebratory noise for her technological retardedness. "You know?" Teva concluded as she plucked the filter out of her mouth with her left index and middle fingers again.

He shook his head. "You do know that, like, 80% of everyone is meshed in at any given time, right? The Matrix really isn't all that hard to navigate. I mean, you can function with AR just fine while you're doing anything else. And VR? That's even better. You just imagine whatever you want. The job you interrupted? -and, sorry about being snappy, I was kind of in my moment. The Liberator gets a little caught up in what he's doing sometimes... Anyway, when I'm doing that kind of job I see it like working on a Japanese puzzle box, only I'm inside it like a giant maze with booby traps and guard drones, stuff I can touch or fight. You just sort of...make it make sense. Does that make sense?"

He glanced at her, wondering if she was listening or had tuned him out after his first couple words. He tended to get a little excited when talking Matrix, but a lot of people didn't actually give a damn about the way it actually worked. Most people either didn't use it, used it but didn't care how it functioned, or were like him and didn't really need a lesson about it 'cause you already got it. Sometimes, though, he'd get that one interested party who was curious.

He had a feeling that anyone who called it 'the nets' was not going to be one of those curious people.

"I know everyone's meshed in," Teva replied with a shrug. "I can use the nets for basic stuff, but it…bothers me? I don't know, I think you either get used to it while you're young or you never do. Maybe it has something to do with…what I do, but I'm not really sure."

She felt that strange tension between her shoulder blades, a warning zinging up her spine that made her hesitate a beat. Feral flicked her cigarette away with false casualness, using the movement to cover her glance at the windows, hoping for a reflection on the surfaces. The moment was altogether too reminiscent of her kidnapping in New Orleans. "Don't worry about being snappy with me," Teva lightheartedly replied, grabbing Switch's hand in a quick pass and forcing him to walk along a little faster. "I'd be pissed if you wanted to have a conversation while I was in the middle of a fight."

Surreptitiously, Feral glanced behind them again at the figure who was trailing them casually, and trying to make it look like they weren't at all.

"Walk faster," Teva hissed under her breath at Switch. They were out in the open on a fairly well-traversed street in the middle of the damn day. The stalker would wait until they were somewhere more secluded to attack. Well, he would if he had two brain cells to rub together. Maybe if they were lucky Feral could get Switch to the motel before dealing with their little tagalong.

As Switch matched her speed, he let out one of his typical nervous chuckles. "Good thing I called for an escort, huh?"

Despite his humor-covers-fear take on the situation, his brain was already firing off demands into his PAN, pulling up profiles on everyone that he was able to. Not surprisingly, there were a good number of people unaccounted for - all obviously running on hidden mode. If he dug a little deeper he could still bring up a signal, and could then hack that signal, but he had no way of knowing if any of those said hidden individuals actually posed a threat. What was more concerning was the number of people that had no traces of a signal at all, much like that one time with that goblin who stole his visor. There was nothing he could do about those people, including the one that appeared to be trailing them from what he could see in the security camera feed on the gun shop they just walked past.

"Just so you know," he whispered, "Thaaaat guy has less tech than you do right now, which makes me about a hundred percent rocks-smashing-together here. I'll stay out of the way and make a really good cheerleader if you need one, though."

He checked another camera feed positioned on the wall of what was trying to pass itself off as a pawn shop on the outside, but he was willing to bet it was anything _but_that on the inside. The image quality was too good for basic security tech, and easily picked up the image of another man watching them a little too intently as they approached with the use of a piece of mirrored glass angled to catch their reflection.

"He's got a friend waiting around that corner over there too, in case you didn't pick him up with your super senses. That guy's kind of...big, and hairy, with this huge wart thing hanging off his nose. You'd think he could get cosmetics done for something like that."

"Is it weird that I'm strangely excited about this?" Feral whispered, and then let out a girlish giggle. "I have been so bored lately, you have no idea." She cast out her senses like a net. Unfortunately, the extent of her skill in that area was picking up hostile intentions. It wasn't exactly the most accurate barometer, not like Switch's very helpful description. It was more like she felt little bubbles of negative thought or emotion, phantasmagoric blobs on the edge of her visual perception. She tried to feel for any more unfriendlies, but only came up with the two they already knew about.

"Can you see if the guy around the corner has any weapons on him? That'd be helpful," Feral commented off-handedly, her gaze already doing a visual perusal from the little glimpses she kept getting of the assailant behind them.

They were rapidly approaching the corner Switch indicated the second hostile was hiding behind. Teva dropped the hacker's hand, saying as quietly as she could, and wishing fervently for the subvocal mic she'd left back at the motel, "If you see an out, run, and take cover. Call Red. You can get the number from my comm, I'm sure."

The guy behind them started picking up speed, lengthening his stride. There was something vaguely familiar about his face, about that hooked nose and beady eyes. A terrible inkling started brewing in her mind. "You said the other guy had a wart, right?" She licked her lips nervously. "Well, good news is they're after me, so you might get out of this unscathed. Bad news is they're probably really upset. We have, um, a bit of a history." Teva unzipped her light jacket so the fabric wouldn't impede her draw, and felt the world slow as her focus sharpened.

"First of all, you're a freak," Will whispered as he worked the camera's zoom function, "but I mean that in a loving way."

He caught the end of a weapon sticking out from hidden guy's waistband, and did a quick scan through his system to identify it.

"Second of all, do you know what a Fichetti PI is? Because your friend The Wart has-"

The man moved fast, pulling out his gun and stepping around the corner to aim it straight at them.

With a sharp grin, Teva shoved Switch out of the way right her right hand, and drew one of her pistols with the left. She was glad she'd packed the Security 600's. The extra ammo would be a benefit right now, and frankly she could care less about subtlety. They'd attacked first.

Dropping to one knee threw off the shooter's aim, and she made herself small enough that the blast zinged over her head. She grimaced, and shot at him, but the sudden change in position had thrown off her aim ever so slightly. Her bullet hit the side of the building, embedding in the old brick-face.

She felt movement behind her, and with barely a pause from thought to action, Feral had her second pistol drawn and aimed. She shot wildly behind her, hoping to suppress his attack. Her main concern was big, hairy, and gross; she had to get him out of the game before his weapon recharged.

Will hit the ground and scrambled backwards until he was tucked behind an old mail dropbox. He kept his arms over his head, but did his best to keep an eye on what was going on. Quickly, he pulled up Feral's contact list and made a call in to her friend Red, hoping the guy was a little more tech savvy than the adept was. As the comm picked up on the other end and he was met with Red's virtual persona instead of just the usual voice sans image that Feral used, he let out a relieved breath.

He was talking before the guy could say anything. "I'm Switch. Feral's being shot at by two uglies. She said to call you for help." With that, he sent stills of their attackers and a little map showing their exact location, then cut the call.

The guy behind Feral had pulled back behind a car when she had started firing wildly in his direction, but now he seemed to be busying himself with something in his hands. Will couldn't get a good angle on it from the security cams, but he figured it could _not_be something good. A slight adjustment on the guy's part as he leaned around the car to scope out his target confirmed it.

"Roomsweeper," Will identified readily with his PAN. Feral was trying to take out the bigger guy, but the smaller guy had the bigger gun. The word 'non-lethal' filtered back to his mind from the brief glimpse he had caught of the PI's specs, but a brief glimpse was all he ever needed to lock something into his brain.

"Feral! Roomsweeper!" he shouted, and shifted so he was up on his toes. Two guys taking shots at the same time, Feral with no cover, one non-lethal weapon and one _very_ lethal weapon. He wouldn't move unless he had to, but given the options, the one fighter of the team couldn't afford to be incapacitated by a non-lethal. _He_ could, though...if it gave her the extra time she needed to take out the greater danger, _he_ could.

On occasion, Teva would allow herself a moment of reflection wherein she evaluated her life choices with a critical eye. This was one of those times. If she had a time machine, she'd go and bitch-slap her thirteen year old self in the face, and tell her that a life of crime was not as glamorous as it seemed.

Switch's warning registered just in time, and she rolled to her feet, her plan adjusting slightly with the new information. A round of shotgun ammo blasted the concrete where she knelt moments before.

Feral was already gone, sending a boost of power through her limbs as she leapt into the air, landing on the hood of the car with a loud whump sound as the material bowed under her weight. She kept running up the window, taking her aim at the man ducked for cover at the rear. It was a stupid attack, but nothing could have been worse than sitting in the middle of the two shooters out in the open. The guy with the Roomsweeper readjusted his aim, and Feral knew she'd have to move just right to avoid being prematurely ended by that bullet.

As Switch moved, he knew this was probably one of the worst ideas he'd ever had.

He didn't slow down as he rushed the man, using his momentum to knock them both further around the corner away from the fight. There was the brief click of a trigger being pulled as he impacted with the big man, and then his breath caught as his whole body seemed to light on fire.

Feral's opponent squeezed the trigger.

She twisted and leapt. Pain tore through her side as the bullet missed her vital parts, but cut a deep furrow in her waist. Feral landed hard on the back window, and slid down the rest of the way. Her shot three feet away from his head didn't miss. Blood and brain matter exploded from his ruined skull, and painted the grill of the vehicle behind it.

Feral kept sliding right off the trunk, leaving a bright red blood smear behind on the old, gray paint job, landing sloppily on the ground between the two vehicles.

It had all happened so quickly.

Her particular brand of magic flooded her body, suppressing the pain from her wound.

Teva was vaguely surprised she hadn't caught a pulse from the PI during her foolhardy maneuver. She shoved the corpse flat to the ground, and peeked around the bumper to ascertain just what had happened to the ugly guy with the non-lethal.

"Fuck!" she barked out as soon as she realized that the second baddie was nowhere on the street, and worse yet, Switch wasn't either. The mailbox he'd been crouched behind was now unoccupied, but she could see the bag he'd been carrying still there. With a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach, Feral found herself running down the block, her pistols still clutched in her hands. Thoughtlessly, she headed for the corner the assailant had been hiding behind, thinking random thoughts about _The Brave Little Toaster, The Little Engine That Could_, and even _Thumbelina_.

By the time she rounded the corner, Switch was on the ground writhing in agony. Wart Nose—it suddenly occurred to her that his name was Frank, and the other guy had been Kilik; they'd both worked security at Ramses Imported Antiquities last year—was still pressing on the trigger. He turned as she barreled down the sidewalk, and she shot him in the shoulder. The weapon fell from his suddenly nerveless fingers.

Feral was close enough now that she pistol-whipped him, growling out only one word, "Why?"

The guy shook his head as though to clear it of something.

She pressed the muzzle of her gun against his bleeding shoulder wound, forcing him up against the wall to escape the pain. She had no qualms admitting to the fact that she enjoyed the look on his face as she rubbed the hot end chamber against his open wound.

"Cost me my job, slitch," Frank forced out between clenched teeth. "Came in playing pretend, killed the boss' second. We all got fired, everybody on that protection detail." He gave a choked laugh, and said, "Kilik saw you at the airport. Thought it was time for a little payback."

With a cool look, Teva slid the gun across his chest, pausing right over his heart. "I hope it was worth it," she stated, and pulled the trigger once, twice just to make sure.

God, Will couldn't even scream it hurt so bad, and it _didn't stop_. All he could do was lay there, thinking this must be what hellfire felt like, wondering how the tears streaming out from beneath his glasses didn't boil away upon impact with his skin.

Something in the back of his head registered a sound, a gunshot, and then it was like someone had suddenly turned the boiler off under the pot. He stayed where he was, still unable to move as his skin began to slowly cool off, and just tried to focus on what was going on beside him. Voices were talking, his head too foggy to register what was being said, and then two more gunshots went off in succession.

When it occurred to him that it wasn't his own body blessed with new holes, he allowed himself a small sigh of relief...that came out as more of a pained groan, actually. He kept his eyes squeezed shut as he gasped out, "Feral...your friends...suck."

Well, at least he was still able to snark. That was something. Feral put up her guns and crouched down next to Switch. "If you're feeling better, we should probably move," she stated in lieu of an apology. "This is now a crime scene."

He took in a shuddering breath and nodded. "Okay...in a second." His attempt to push himself off the ground left him in hissing failure. "Or, okay, maybe five seconds. Go get my bag, okay? I'll be up when you get back."

"This is an awesome day," Feral muttered under her breath, and painstakingly stood up. It didn't help that her resistance to pain was beginning to wear off as the adrenaline surge tapered off. With a careful look up and down the block to see if anyone was looking outside of their windows, Teva scampered across the street to swipe Switch's bag up. She hissed and clutched her side as she bent, and when she came up she lifted a hand covered in blood.

"Okay, Switch, man up," he muttered to himself as soon as Feral was out of earshot. It wasn't that big a deal. Just a few zillion of his skin molecules trying to settle back in where they belonged.

Holding his breath, he rolled over and pushed himself to his feet, promptly stumbling backwards until he hit the wall behind him. He managed to stay up, but barely, and froze as the impact sent his nerve endings on fire for another brief few seconds. He stayed leaning against the wall, hand down on one knee to center his weight better as he pulled off glasses with the other hand to wipe his arm across his teary eyes.

"Sweet," she hissed, rolling her eyes sarcastically as she found her way back to her companion. "Ready, princess?" Feral asked, rubbing her hand on the front of her black tank top, and offering it to him.

He was about to spout off some sort of retort that would probably get him punched, but the words froze on his lips when he looked at her. "Oh my god, you're bleeding!" He shoved his glasses back on his face and forced himself away from the wall. "Why didn't you say anything? Here, you shouldn't be carrying that." He snatched the bag from her and settled it on his shoulders, not quite able to suppress the little "ow" that came out as the bag's weight pressed against his still mildly-burning skin. "Your friend should be on his way. Should we wait for him? Can you walk okay? Should I try to patch that up or something? What do you need me to do?"

With a little laugh, Teva told him, "I just need you to walk." She started on her way operating under the assumption that he'd follow her, slapping a hand over her wound. "S'pose I should probably call those morons, and see what the hell is taking them so long," the adept muttered to herself, only she didn't.

She made it a few more paces in total silence before glanced to the side, and saying in an embarrassed tone, "Thanks…for, you know, distracting the other guy. I was kind of in a pinch there." It was very apparent that Teva didn't say 'thank you' very much anymore if her stumbling over the words was any indication. Still, she got them out between gritted teeth.

Switch clamped up and followed along, partly because he didn't want to annoy her, partly because he didn't have the energy to argue, and partly because he was trying very hard not to make little noises that would give away the fact that the bag rubbing against his back and shoulders kind of really hurt. He wasn't the one bleeding, after all.

It came as a bit of a surprise when Feral actually thanked him. He wasn't used to hearing that...like ever. Even when he thought he deserved it.

She moved on to a new question before he could think of a proper response to her awkwardly-given gratitude.

Down the road, she spotted two incredibly tall men walking towards them, and scoffed. "What's a good word for somebody who's always late?"

"Um..." he thought as he looked at the two men ahead who he presumed _wouldn't_ be shooting at them. "Procrastinators? Is that too nice? Aimless, incompetent, irresponsible, inept, irrelevant? How about nugatory? That's a good word. It's a smart person way of saying useless."

"Well, well," Feral raised her voice so it carried down the block, "If it isn't my nugatory companions. Really, Red, I know you like you to be fashionably late, but isn't this cutting it a little close?"

The two men loomed closer, Red in the same dashing pinstriped suit he'd worn on the plane, somehow unwrinkled. He looked sleek and smooth, and maybe a little dangerous, like some kind of mobster. Next to him, Madden was obviously the more physically imposing of the two. He wore jeans and work boots, and an old Army surplus jacket over what Feral knew would be an impressive arsenal.

Madden frowned. Even from a distance he could tell that she was injured. She really wasn't trying to hide it either, more concerned as she was with stopping the bleeding.

As they approached, she turned to Switch saying, "Switch, this is Red." She waved at the elf. "And this is Madden." She turned the gesture onto the ginormous troll. Facing the other two again, she stated, "Guys, this is Switch. Say thank you. He just got pegged with a Fichetti PI so that I could continue to be ass-kickingly awesome."

"A pleasure," Red replied, holding out his hand for a firm shake. "Though I'm sure you needn't have resorted to such heroics. Feral's tougher than she looks."

There again was that casual disregard for her safety. She narrowed her eyes and thought venom at him, hoping if she wished hard enough he'd just keel over dead.

"Hoi," Madden said with a slight incline of his head, but his worry was for his friend. "You're hurt. How badly?"

In silent reply, she took her palm off the wound and held it up, proudly displaying its pretty red color.

"Don't take pressure off it!" Switch practically yelped in alarm, moving to grab her hand to place it back over the wound. He stopped himself at the last second, though, and pulled back, not sure how she'd react to his probably unwelcome touching. Instead, he turned to the troll - _Madden_, he reminded himself.

"The guy had a Roomsweeper."

He was hoping that would be all it took to explain the potential seriousness of Feral's injury, because really, how much more needed to be said than, 'Hey, she got gunned down by a freaking shotgun!'?

Her trolly friend looked at her in alarm. "What? Jesus, kid, what the hell were you thinking?"

Red remained inscrutable behind his shades as he stated, "Let me see."

She turned slightly, lifting the flap of her jacket. There was a gaping hole in her tank top going right out the back of her jacket. Both items of clothing were ruined. The wound was a diagonal furrow in her side, large and messy. Feral couldn't be quite sure, but she thought there were probably fibers from her tank top sticking to the wound, and it's slowly congealing blood. That was going to hurt when she had to take the tank off.

It hurt like a sonuvabitch, though she'd never admit to it.

Red gaze, covered by dark lenses, moved up from the wound to her face. "Idiot," was all he said.

"Whoreface Bitchpants," she spat back. "Madden will be nice to me." Turning to the troll, Teva stuck out her lower lip in a pout. "Be my friend?"

Large hands lifted, hovered uselessly, and then dropped. "We should get back to the motel first," he finally said. "Red can heal you there."

The elf looked nonplussed by this, and turned back around. "The next time you finish the fight before the cavalry arrives, please do call. I hate coming all this way for nothing."

Behind his back, Teva made a very rude gesture that may or may not have been miming the male masturbatory technique with the hand not covering her side.

Madden snorted, glanced at Switch, and said, "Bleeding and still a smart-ass."

* * *

**TBC…**


	4. Chapter 4

Murphy's Law

Chapter 4

* * *

Fandom: Shadowrun

Pairings: Mostly Gen with a dash of Feral/Red for your angsty delights, oh, and some brief Feral/Ghost

Rating: R

Warnings: violence, gore, mentions of cannibalism, homosexuality, rape, attempted rape, insanity

Archive: Ask

Author: Alex Kade and Lily Zen

* * *

Disclaimer: Shadowrun belongs to Shadowrun peoples. Original characters belong to us.

* * *

As she'd suspected, pulling off her tank top had hurt like a motherfucker. Red had actually used a pair of scissors to cut the thing off, and he'd tried to be as gentle as possible peeling off the parts that had crusted to the wound. Her healing factor had already started kicking in, and honestly if she hadn't needed to be fully functional for the Run, she'd have told Red to save his spells for someone else. As it was, she'd buried her face in a pillow and bit down until the awful slow-bandage-removal sensation subsided.

The elf grimaced and said quietly, "Sorry."

Teva kneed him lightly in protest; her way of saying 'shut up, you have nothing to be sorry about.'

Will sat at a little round table very much like the one back in the Gala, staring off into space as he absently twirled his glasses around in one hand. He had no idea how long he'd sat like that until something touching his shoulder jolted him back to the present, making him jump and drop the PAN viewer to the floor.

"Sorry, did I hurt you?" Madden asked quietly. "If you need Red to-"

"Oh, no, I'm great, really," Will answered quickly. "I just...had a rough day."

Madden looked him over with a critical eye, then stooped over to pick the glasses off the ground. "I'd say you've had more than one."

"Heh, you win the prize for understatement of the year." Switch shook his head and looked over to where Red was working on Feral. "She'll be okay, right?"

Red's healing magic washed through Teva, his hands hovering lightly over her skin. It didn't hurt. There was no pain as her muscle and skin reknit, and smoothed out, leaving a slightly shiny patch of new, pink skin, only the discomfiting sensation of furred sides brushing up against one another.

It was easy to forget that they shared a mentor spirit. Red was suave and sophisticated; she was messy and wild. Cat had blessed them both, but it had given them different gifts. She was an alley cat, scratching and clawing for survival, while Red was more like somebody's adored pet. However, as the feel of his magic stalked inside of her skin, Teva suddenly felt tired and lazy, like a fat, fluffy house-cat. Her eyelids got heavy, and she drifted somewhere calm, a rare peace of mind stealing over her.

With a shrug and a small smile, Madden watched the healing process for a second before turning back to answer the question. "Physically, yes; can't vouch for her mental status."

Will smirked. "I get the feeling that's not a new development."

"Nope." The troll chuckled lightly. "I take it you haven't known each other very long?"

"Not really. We met when...actually, it's really complicated. I don't really want to go into that whole..._thing_."

Madden held up his arms. "Your business is your own. I'm just making small talk."

"Which is code for 'making sure I check out,' right?" At Madden's shrug, Will sighed and pulled his bag out from under his chair. He reached into it and placed the four prepared comms on the tabletop, and watched as the troll's eyes lit up upon seeing the subcontractor units.

"Are these corp issue?"

"Those are the real deal." Will offered up a little grin with his answer.

Madden turned it over in his hand, glanced at Red, then took a longer look at Switch than he had before. "Didn't have the nuyen for a cab, huh?" As the hacker dropped his gaze, Madden's suspicions were confirmed. Nodding, he placed a hand on Will's shoulder and spoke a little more softly. "I think you have a dinner waiting for you in your room, but I'd wait until Feral's ready to guide you in. She likes to leave surprises for unwelcome guests."

"I'm guessing the surprise isn't a banner and a confetti bomb?"

With a laugh, Madden clapped Switch on the back before making his way over to sit on the empty bed. He set up a link between his own PAN gear and the new comm, just to make sure everything was in order.

Switch didn't blame him. If he or 'Carn hadn't worked the SINs, he'd be doing the same thing. It wasn't paranoid, just playing it smart. You never knew who you could trust in this line of work.

Slouching back in his chair, he waited patiently until Red finished the patch work on Feral. That manicotti was calling for him, he was sure of it.

Teva barely even noticed when the magic ebbed away, and truthfully probably would have fallen asleep right then and there, except Red shook her awake.

He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling up. "Good as new."

Teva slid off the mattress, and pulled her harness back up onto her shoulders. It was a little awkward, seeing how all she was wearing was a bra, conservative in cut, black in color, so the harness chafed her skin a little. She balled up her bloody clothes and held them to her chest, nodded a sleepy thanks, and nuzzled Madden's hair between his horns on the way to the door. "I told you he was good," she stated smugly.

"You did," the troll agreed easily, reaching up with one giant paw to pat her head absentmindedly, though he didn't tear his eyes away from his comm.

Teva straightened up again. "Come on, Switch," she drawled, "Get the door for me, and let's go get your dinner. Oh, and I'll show you where the booby traps are." Bending her face down toward the pile of destroyed clothing, she rubbed her eyes like a sleepy little kid. "Goodnight, guys. Let me know when the stragglers show up, hey?"

Red looked over at her as he threw a cheap, bloody towel back in the bathroom, and said simply, "Goodnight." There seemed to be more in that simple word, and Teva cocked her head a little trying to figure out what it was. However, Red was good at deception, and if there was something he didn't want her to know…well, then she wasn't going to find out. She shook off the moment, and looked expectantly at Switch before they headed out the door.

* * *

Switch spent about a second and a half being worried about the traps, but there were currently more important issues at hand. Much like an eager little kid on Christmas morning, he practically danced from foot to foot as Feral presented him with his bonus reward. He took a second to just savor the smell of the pasta, the meat, and the cheese before diving in.

The first bite was like heaven. The second was like being kissed by an angel. The third - he smiled as his mind traveled to thoughts about said angel that any woman would smack him upside the head for.

He devoured the whole plate-full before he sheepishly remembered that there was someone else in the room with him.

Slowly wiping his face with a napkin, he shot Feral an apologetic look. "Wow, I'm sorry. That was really rude. And here I was supposed to be raised with proper manners. Um...you want some of the mousse?"

As soon as she'd shown Switch the booby traps and handed over his neat little package of food—seriously, Red had really come through that time—she'd tossed her bloody bundle in the trash, pulled on a fresh t-shirt (white that time because variety is the spice of life), and face-planted on the bed closest to the door. She didn't even strip off her weapons; just let the holster flop weirdly around her hips.

The happy sounds of Will's ecstatic eating were all that remained in the room.

She wasn't in the mood to entertain; she just wanted…her stomach clenched in a way that said 'I'm hungry.' Teva told it to shut up.

When Switch asked if she'd like some of his dessert, she staunchly shook her head. "No thanks." That was his food, and she'd be damned if she'd take it from him. Besides, he looked like he needed it a lot more than her. It wasn't right for a guy to be that petite. He had, what, maybe ten pounds on her? And she was thin for her height!

It seemed no matter what she tried though she couldn't gain the extra mass. Her body was too pared down from exercise and activity, and years of not being able to afford three meals a day with all the necessities. It didn't help that, as Razor had explained it to her, an adept's magic keyed up the body's physiological responses, one of which was metabolism. She could learn how to control it—and she'd been trying!—but it was a tough skill to master.

Disgruntled with the entire thing—imagine the audacity of a grumbling stomach interfering with her sleep!—she settled down on the bed with further determination. She was too tired to try and hunt down a convenience store, or even a vending machine, and way too proud to ask somebody to go for her. She'd just have an extra big breakfast in the morning.

Will was eternally grateful that Feral was asleep when, an hour after he'd finished the best meal of his life, said best meal decided to make an encore appearance. It was _not_as good coming back up.

He had locked himself in the bathroom and was now hugging the toilet, inwardly cursing as he wretched for the fourth time. It wasn't fair. Nothing about his situation was fair. He was tired of being homeless, tired of being broke, tired of being hungry, tired of being scared, tired of people taking advantage of him, beating him up, altering his implants without his permission, tired of just plain being tired - and the one good thing he got since his life got turned upside down was now in the toilet.

Up until now, he had done a decent job just accepting everything, doing his best to just try to make his new way of living work, bottling away everything that the universe seemed intent to throw in his face.

Feral woke up when he started retching. It was a little hard not to. The walls were so thin, the bathroom door cheap and hollow. It did next to nothing to contain the sound within. Feral decided to ignore it. She wouldn't like it if someone witnessed her moment of humiliation.

When she was little her mother used to come in the bathroom if she was throwing up, and rub her back while she heaved into the toilet bowl; long, circular strokes starting over one shoulder blade, running down the side of her spine, and curving back up the other, over and over like she was trying to draw out all the bad stuff that was making Teva sick. When Teva and Tamsin got older, and started pulling away from their mom, they did the same thing for each other. Teva never noticed the same comfort in Tamsin's touch as she got from their mother, but Tamsin had commented once, idly, that Teva's hands felt just like their mom's.

As he puked up another round of his once-awesome dinner, the dam finally broke. Sobs came out between heaves, and kept coming out well after his body had purged itself of everything he'd put in it. He crossed his arms over the rim and rested his forehead on them, letting the tears come as they pleased. Figuring if he was going to sit there and purge the food, he might as well get everything else out of his system, too.

Tomorrow would be better. He'd be done crying and tomorrow would be better.

The tears were really too much for her to handle. Perhaps it was because she was tired and hungry, or maybe it was because she was thinking about her family; maybe it was just as simple as she liked the spunky little hacker, and she wasn't fond of seeing people she liked in pain. Whatever the reason, Teva got out of bed. She finished unbuckling her holster, and left it on the bed. It didn't seem very reassuring or non-threatening, and Teva realized that for the first time in a long time she was making an effort to appear as such.

Lightly, she tapped on the bathroom door, and called out softly, "Will?" When a beat had passed with no response, the adept offered with equal quietness, "I can help." It was, of course, something she hadn't done for anyone in many years, but she knew instinctively that it would be just like the old adage about riding a bike. It would still work. The years of bloodshed and violence hadn't erased this thing from her.

He froze and swallowed the lump in his throat when she called him by name - not his street name, but his _real_one, and that's exactly who he was right now. Dull brown hair, corpse kid, weakling little Will, bawling his eyes out because his spoiled little self couldn't handle the real world pressing down on him.

_Some superhero._

After her offer for help, he stayed where he was for a few long seconds, not really certain what to do. It wasn't like he could play it off that he wasn't in here acting like the big baby that he was. There was no point, she'd already caught him.

And yet, it didn't sound like she was going to come in here and judge him over it.

Sniffling and doing his best to wipe the tears from his eyes, he stayed down on his knees and slowly leaned over to twist the lock. He didn't turn the handle to open the door, just shifted back to where he was and propped an elbow on the toilet seat, keeping his face covered somewhat by his hand so she wouldn't see his reddened eyes when—if-she took the unlocking of the door as the invitation that it was. Telling her to come in wasn't an option. He didn't trust his voice not to crack, not just yet.

Teva heard the sound of the door unlock, and waited a moment to see if there was any other invitation forthcoming. When all that occurred was a long silence, she turned the knob, opening it just wide enough for her to slip through, not sure where Will was sitting and not wanting to accidentally bean him with the door. She closed it behind her again, not quite sure why she did it since they were the only ones in the motel room, but it seemed right. The bathroom was safe, an insular location where they could drop their masks. It was a place where everyone was at their most vulnerable. Somehow, she needed to honor that by keeping the outside world at bay.

He didn't move when she came in, didn't even turn his head to look at her. He could tell this was awkward for her, confirmed by her hesitation at her first touch. The thing was, this was just as awkward for him. The only person who ever tried to comfort him, who ever even tried to touch him in an affectionate manner since his real father's death (outside of his pretend VR worlds, anyway), had been Kiki.

Kiki wasn't human.

Slithering around his body, Teva perched on the side of the tub. He looked miserable, and heartbroken in a way, and the smell of bile and saline lingered in the room; at least it did to her nose. She reached for him, but her hand stalled in mid-air. She hadn't just touched anybody in a long time, except for casual and odd affectionate gestures like the one she'd bestowed on Madden earlier, and the thought was daunting. Get over it, a voice growled within, the side of her conscience that was Feral. Her fingertips touched his shirt. "I haven't done this for awhile," she said quietly by way of apology. "It may take me a bit to get back in the groove."

Stutteringly, she ran her hand down his back, and then up the other side to create the circuit. It wasn't quite right. On the second pass, she flattened her palm. Before the third ineffective sweep, she paused, huffing in frustration, and closed her eyes, reaching for some level of calm to settle her jangling nerves. It didn't help that Will was so unnaturally quiet; his sorrow was a taste on the air, and the part of her that was Feral was demanding she retreat from that vulnerability, throw some tissues at him, tell him to man up, and get the fuck out of there. Teva couldn't bring herself to do that to Will though. He was just too soft, too weak at this moment for her to be anything but yielding as well.

Will told himself not to stiffen up as she tentatively worked her hand across his back, not wanting her to think she was making things worse. She wasn't. He found that he actually sort of craved the physical comfort. He just wasn't certain what to do with it. So he just sat there, still, quiet, slightly uncomfortable and a little ashamed that she felt she had to do that for him; and then something changed.

Something inside of her relaxed, and the next brush of her palm brought with it an awareness of all the places in him that hurt. Unfortunately, she could do nothing for the emotional trauma, which Teva knew was always the one that hurt more and was harder to cope with. Her skill was limited to the physical aches and pains, his nerves that were still tetchy from the PI blast, and the muscular strain from throwing up. He'd wake feeling heavily bruised in unfamiliar places if she left them as they were. Underneath the hurt was the waterway of energy that ran through all living beings.

She felt the tide of that energy in herself as it rose up, cresting over the banks, and sliding down the tributaries into her arms, her hands. Her fingertips and palms tingled, somehow warm despite the fact that her mind equated the chi system to water. Her control wasn't perfect, and she'd accidentally called the magic to both of her hands. Don't waste it, an inner voice whispered. It didn't have Feral's gruff tones and stilted words. It sounded more like her mother's lilting Romanian purr. Teva listened instinctively, shifting so that she crouched on the floor behind Will, placing her other hand on the opposite side of his spine. They moved in tandem, down his spine, thumbs tracing the dips of his vertebrae lightly as she passed them, her magic calling to his chi, bringing it down to the base of his spine where her palms collected it all. On the up-sweep her hands circled out, almost to his sides, pulling his chi with her, sending it flowing out down the invisible rivers under his skin, trickling into the places where he hurt. Eyes closed, she lost herself in the rhythmic motion, the slightly rough feel of the cotton under her hands fading until it felt like silk, or maybe skin, or maybe it was just her magic telling her mind that as her fingers memorized the feel of Will's back underneath her.

As she slid down behind him, moving both her hands up along his spine, Will felt himself start to relax. There was a safe feeling that came with her actions, a sense of warmth, dulling the sharp edges of all his little pains. It was almost like the time when he was six and had come down with a bad fever, and his father had wrapped him up in a thick blanket and just held him on his lap, rocking him to sleep.

It would take awhile until he really started to feel better. The process wasn't quick by any means. Teva could only hold so much chi at once, and the tributaries could only handle so much before they'd overflow. The body had to have time to process these changes. She could speed up the rhythm of the system, but she couldn't alter the way it functioned.

Teva emerged from the peace of the moment just long enough to ask, "Is this okay?"

The question was so soft, and he was so caught up in what she was doing that he almost didn't hear it. Another silent tear emerged from beneath his closed eyelids, sliding down his cheek to land wherever it saw fit to end its journey, but this time it was not an expression of pain. It was a sense of being overwhelmed, but in a good way. It was _good_ to feel like someone cared, to know that maybe he wasn't so alone, that someone might, just _might_, be there to catch him if he ran himself off a cliff.

"Yeah," he whispered with a little nod, "It's perfect."

She smiled a little to herself, a sensation of quiet pride taking root within her at Will's words. Being someone other than Feral, the constant mask she wore to protect herself from the loneliness, from the emptiness of her life, felt nice. It was nice to just be Teva, and to let herself care.

Her power pulled and pushed at his lifeforce, directing it where she wanted it to go. Teva was better at this, she found, better even than when she'd been younger. When she had first discovered this talent she hadn't realized it was magic she was reaching for, hadn't understood what she was doing or why. Knowledge about herself, about her true nature as an adept, had imparted with it some wisdom into how it was that she was able to do these things. The theoretical knowledge, it seemed, had imparted with it a greater ease in accessing this particular skill.

Without much thought, she started speaking out loud, sharing some of her inner world with Will. Just like a part of her needed to heal, a part of her also needed to speak, to make a connection with someone. "My mother used to do this for me," she told him in a near-whisper, conscious of the fact that her voice seemed to echo in this crappy little bathroom, "And then when I Awakened, I did it for my sister. I think sometimes I'd be a very different person if they hadn't died…but they did. I got very lost after that. I went from having a home, having a family to having nothing, and I didn't know what to do. The only thing I seemed capable of doing was surviving, and I guess that was okay for awhile."

Increasing the pressure of her fingers, she forced her magic a little deeper into his muscles, though her true aim was somewhere that she couldn't touch, the acid-burned length of his throat, and his abused stomach; his chi pulsed and flowed under her direction. "Now I wonder if there hadn't been another option, if I could have done more, been more than a desperate survivalist," she admitted aloud for the first time ever. "I won't patronize you by saying I know how you feel right now. I'm not a mind-reader; I can't say with any certainty how you feel, but it looks like you're sad and lost. I guess what I'm trying to say is be careful that you don't get too lost."

Teva subsided into silence, letting her hands coax out what little comfort her words had probably failed to inspire.

As she spoke, he shifted back down so his head was resting on his arms again, and absorbed her words as much as his body was absorbing the waves of gentle, empathetic compassion that flowed through him. He turned his face and finally opened his eyes, barely seeing her over his shoulder.

"I had it the other way around," he started, his voice quiet with hesitation. When she didn't say anything, he figured it was okay to keep going. "I didn't always have everything, you know. Damien...he, um, I was his Humanitarian Trophy, I guess you could call it. I was eight when my _real_ Dad..." He shook his head, closing his eyes again. The mental image of his father going down in a shower of blood, blades protruding neatly from his body, all for the sake of protecting a corp god, wasn't one he liked to bring to the forefront of his mind. "I _did_ get lost, just in a different way than you, and now I have to figure it out all over again." He sighed. "I'm not a kid anymore, though. That probably means I shouldn't be such a princess about it this time, huh?" He grinned a little, cutting whatever barb might've been in the question as he felt himself centering out, relaxing even more as she worked away everything that hurt inside him.

"Don't take offense to this," Teva began quietly, "But in a lot of ways you do seem like a kid. Your way of coping was to lose yourself in a fantasy world—I do understand some of those comic book references you toss around; there was this old lady in my neighborhood, and she'd tutor those of us that couldn't go to school for whatever reason; sometimes she'd let us read this collection of old comics she had. Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yeah, fantasy world; while it kept you safe in your own head, it hasn't done you any favors in learning how to deal with the real world, and in a way it has kept you from…fully maturing? Not that I am, by any means, the picture of mental health and stability either."

Deciding she'd done as much as she could, Teva severed the connection between her magic and his body. As the awareness faded, she squeezed his shoulders in what she hoped was a comforting grip. "You're playing catch-up now, and that's cool. You'll figure it out in time. Just give yourself some space to sort it all out."

"Now, I'm gonna hug you because that seems like the thing to do after all this emotional bonding. This is the first time I've hugged anybody in three years, so you better appreciate it for the miracle it is." She chuckled as she wrapped her arms around Will's waist from behind and held him firmly, her nose against the collar of his t-shirt. "Also, you smell like puke, so if you could please take a shower before you come to bed, I would really appreciate it," Teva informed him as matter-of-factly as possible, though she kept her voice kind and not critical. With a last squeeze, she stood up slowly, and a little stiffly, bestowed her favorite gesture of affection on him, the customary kitty hair-nuzzle, and headed for the door. She was all done with let's-get-in-touch-with-our-feminine-sides time.

And just like that, it was over.

He pushed himself to his feet slowly, still trying to wrap his head around everything she had just said and done. She was right, of course; he wasn't so naive to think that his sheltered life inside the corp and the Matrix put him at his actual age mentally. Didn't make it any easier to cope with, though.

Still, what she'd just given to him was more than anyone had done for him a _long_time.

"Thanks, Teva," he whispered at the closed door, then sighed as he turned to reach for the shower knob. A small smile crossed his face as he pondered on which comic books she'd actually read. He might just have to pester her about that...all in fair retaliation for 'the nets,' of course.

* * *

Switch was still asleep when Teva woke up; at least that's what she assumed the blob crashed out under the scratchy motel coverlet was. The problem, her awakeness, was all due to the fact that her stomach was trying to eat itself, otherwise she'd have been asleep too. It was barely morning.

She struggled internally for a brief moment on whether or not she should shower first before going out in search of food. Eventually, Teva decided against it. The urgency her growling stomach was impressing on her was too great to ignore, even for the sake of cleanliness.

Rolling out of bed quietly, Feral tugged her boots back on, and dug a long-sleeved flannel out of her bag. It would work sufficiently as cover for weapons. Her comm was on, shades perched on her face. She slipped out the door silently, and headed out of the motel parking lot. There was a Stuffer Shack down the block; she could find food(ish) there.

A light knock on the door pulled him from his dream of dancing ice cream cones, and Will groaned as he rolled over in the bed.

"Feral, get the door," he muttered before he realized no one else was in the room with him.

Sighing, he got to his feet and shuffled across the carpet, mindful not to step on-

_Henry's not here, Will._

God, he hated mornings.

He got to the door and thunked his head against it as he peered through the peephole, but no one was there. Confused, he cautiously started to push it open only to find it met with some slight resistance. Looking down, he caught sight of a little package on the ground that the door was shoving further into the hall.

With his name on it - "Switch," not the "Caleb Knox" identity he was still walking around with.

"That's not weird or anything," he mumbled as he eyed the box. No one should've known he was there, under Switch or Caleb or otherwise.

More awake at the concept of a possible threat, he went to retrieve his PAN gear so he could run an X-Ray on the package. As soon as he saw what was inside, he let out a girlish, giddy laugh (thank god Feral wasn't around for _that_), and quickly pulled the box into the room. He tore it open, throwing packaging everywhere, and pulled out the five perfect mini-Lynx Drones, complete with tiny turret guns...if turret guns actually fired mini lasers that could easily sever a finger.

"_Use them wisely._"

Will nodded, too busy playing with his new toys to give much more of a response. Phantom didn't really need one, anyway. He'd made himself known and was already gone.

"Okay, kids, we need names," Will said, clapping his hands together. Running for his pack to dig out a marker pen, he numbered each little drone. "I dub you...let's go old-school, huh? Steve, Tony, Bruce, Clint, and Natasha." He knelt down to whisper at drone number five, "I know you're the only girl, but don't worry, Natasha's the scariest."

Within minutes, he had his gloves on along with his glasses, happily practicing the drones' controls as he sent them rolling in circles around the room.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Feral sang as she whipped open the door to their motel room. She had a bag of food that smelled pretty appetizing in one hand and a ginormous soycaf in the other—seriously, thirty-two ounces; she was going for the record today, though if Switch asked nice she might be persuaded to share-having dropped the other bag off at Red and Madden's room.

She paused as she stepped over the trip wire, glancing at what appeared to be Switch surrounded by a bunch of toys. Drones, she knew, having seen them before on other runs. With a slight smile, she plopped on her bed. "I have some food if you want, then as soon as we're done Red wants us to cram into his room. Apparently Rip arrived early this morning, and our other dude, Ghost, should be showing up any minute now."

Feral unrolled the top of the paper bag, pulling out a soyburger. There were also a couple of donut-esque things in there, and some soymilk; a few other soy-products to boot. Never go shopping when you're hungry. She made short work of the wrapper, and tore into the crap-burger. "Mm, it's so gr—ood," she mumbled temptingly.

Will turned towards the bag, still keeping an eye on where the drones were going through his visual feed.

"Perfect," he grinned as he pulled out a bottle containing apple juice...ish.

Fully engrossed in one of his token Switch moments, he didn't give his actions a second thought as he set the bottle on the ground and promptly fired off Clint's turret laser thing. The little red beam shot a neat little hole straight through the bottle before it continued on its path into the table leg.

"Oops," he muttered, but couldn't drop the huge, boyish smile on his face. A half second later, he altered Tony's laser to be a more steady beam, a solid red line of light that spanned a few inches in front of it.

"Lightsaber mode," Will chuckled, and sent the laser swiping through the bottle, cutting it in half and spilling the remainder of the juice...ish all over the floor.

He laughed as he turned to look at Feral. "Did you see that?"

"Oh, you bastard," she laughed as she watched the apple juice soak into the carpet, "You owe me two nuyen." After a moment's pause, Teva asked curiously, "So what else can it do?" She kind of really wanted them all to do a coordinated dance with their lasers, like synchronized swimmers. That would be tits.

He altered Natasha and sent several laser shots in a row at the flying package of doughnuts, making the thing fall apart in a crumble before it could hit his head.

Teva, who had apparently retrogressed into a four year old with her amusement, laughed and clapped at the lasers. "That's awesome," she declared cheerily.

"Come on, princess, you have to eat something," she stated and stuck out her tongue at Switch. "Especially considering you horked up everything you ate last night." Teva grabbed a wrapped package of donuts and chucked them harmlessly at his head.

"They can do that," he said with a sly grin, and walked over to pull another package out of the bag. That one he actually opened and made a real attempt at consuming as he sat down beside Feral, letting the drones run a little rampant for a while. The doughnuts weren't _that_bad for fake crap, and she was right, he needed to eat something or he wouldn't make it through the Run. Without asking, he leaned over across her and reached for the soycaf on the bedstand to wash the food down with.

"Blech," he said as he pulled away from the cup, making an amusing 'yuck' face. He took another sip, anyway. Caffeine was good.

She leveled a playful glare at him, and snatched it back. "Ask nicely," Teva ordered, and took a huge swig of too-hot liquid. She swallowed hurriedly, and opened her mouth with a little 'pah' noise as she stuck out her burned tongue. Waving a little cool air at it with one hand, she sheepishly admitted, "I always do that, no matter how many times I tell myself I won't next time."

Grabbing the empty burger wrapper, she tossed it in the garbage can on the far side of the room, and went digging in the bag for more foodish items. "Mini pie," she sang to herself as she pulled a little cardboard box labeled 'sweet potato pie' on the side out of the bag, and ripped the end open. "Nom," Teva actually stated as she bit into it.

Switch was about to comment on her utter joy over her "pie" when there was suddenly a little _twang_ followed by a _whoosh!-thunk!_

"Holy crap," he spat out as he looked at the crossbow bolt buried in the door. He looked at Feral and stated again, "Holy crap! That could've been my head this morning!"

He killed the links on all the drones and scurried over to scoop them up off the floor. "Good thing you're tiny, Bruce," he said as he almost lovingly added the toy to the rest of them cradled in his arms. "Only a few hours old and Feral's already trying to kill you."

Feral started laughing at the look on his face. Of course, she was also chewing, and the two weren't always compatible activities. Naturally, what happened next was choking. Wheezing, she slapped a hand on her chest just under her throat where it felt like the food was stuck, chewed better, and re-swallowed. Clearing her throat, she pretended that nothing had happened at all, taking another dainty bite off of her pie.

* * *

Red glanced at the time and, with an exaggerated sigh of apologetic annoyance, excused himself from the room. As he approached Teva's room, he slowed down and arched his eyebrow at the sight of an arrow-tip protruding from the door. He shook his head and lightly rapped on the faux wood with the back of his hand.

"Teva, what did we tell you about taking care of your pets? Techs don't grow on trees, you know. If you killed that one, I'm not buying you any more until you learn some responsibility."

With an exaggerated face at the door, which she was fairly positive that Red couldn't see, Teva shouted, "Coming!" She scrambled over to the door, yanking the bolt out with a little wiggle-and-tug action. "I just gotta…do this one thing…real quick." Dodging around Will, she jumped up on his bed to reset the crossbow that was neatly hiding in the air vent, the vent covering having been removed and set on the ground. While it wasn't likely that someone would show up to rob their room in the next half hour, it also wasn't unlikely; better to be safe and reset the trap than come back and find thousands of nuyen worth of equipment gone.

"Let's go!" she cheered, hopping off the bed, and punching Switch lightly in the arm. As soon as she'd maneuvered him out the door, Teva knelt, putting the trip wire back in place, and grinned evilly as she closed the door of their room.

"Wait, Feral," Will tried to protest as he was shoved out the door and down the hall. Seeing he wasn't being given an option, he shoved his glasses back on his face and ran a hand through his hair, the color changing from his natural brown to a forest green that matched his "Garrett Hood" themed pajama bottoms and t-shirt.

The looks he got from the everybody-else-that-was-in-Red's-room were what he expected.

"...Hi," he greeted with a little wave.

The girl with the amazingly pretty eyes smirked at him. "Nice PJ's."

If not for his glasses hiding his eyes, the look he gave Feral would've said, "Please, just shoot me now before I die of embarrassment."

"Ghost, Rip," Red started, gesturing towards each of the two strangers, "I give you Switch and Feral. Try to play nice. That means you, Feral."

Rip offered up a little wave of her own, while Ghost stood and approached Switch, holding out his fist. "Garrett Hood. He's cool, man."

Ghost looked a little like Switch in that they were both of average height and dark-haired, though Ghost's hair was a shade or two darker, almost black, and his eyes dark to match. His face was a little broader than Switch's, and with those brown eyes it reminded Feral a little of a puppy's mournful "love me" expression. Not that she was thinking about loving Ghost. They'd just met. That would be weird. Still, she could admit that, objectively, he was cute.

Switch's own hand faltered in the air as he tried to decide whether he should pound down on the guy's fist, or bump knuckles. Tentatively, he went with a slow, kind of awkward knuckle bump and smiled. "They're making a sim adaptation this fall. Mark Crash is playing Garrett. It'll probably be the best thing ever."

Ghost simply nodded and turned his attention to Teva, holding out his hand. "Feral, was it?"

For some reason whenever Red told her things like 'play nice,' Feral always wanted to do the exact opposite, and usually she did, make no mistake about that. Well, so long as the Run wasn't in jeopardy. She sneered at the elf, but whatever he may have said or done in reply was lost as the man named Ghost strolled up to them. Unfortunately, he had her attention immediately, and in a way that automatically put thoughts in her brain like stripping down to nothing, shoving him down on a flat surface (any flat surface would do), and rubbing herself all over him.

That kind of instant lust wasn't natural, but unlike the escort she had encountered all those months ago—women just weren't really her thing-this guy she was actually attracted to. Sometimes having such a sensitive nose really sucked. Even knowing that most of what she was feeling was due in part to his enhanced pheromones wasn't enough to wrangle herself back under control. Teva gave a brief thought to dashing out the door—god, she hadn't even showered yet; she must look like a hot mess!—and just not coming back. She could get Switch to fill her in on the meeting, and the plan, and the…other stuff.

What? What was that? Oh, yes, it's considered socially acceptable to shake hands when meeting someone for the first time! And not, as her brain was telling her to do, licking slightly stubbled cheeks. "Yes, it was," she replied, and took his hand in hers. Teva was really shocked that her voice didn't betray the traitorous goings-on of her brain, which had been hijacked by hormones. "It's, uh, nice to meet you?" She wondered briefly just how the whole thing would go if she just jumped on him and started popping buttons. Probably not well. Switch would be scarred for life; everybody else would probably be too.

Teva dropped his hand like it burned, and quickly moved to go sit next to Madden on the other side of the room. A normal woman would hardly notice the pheromones at all, she supposed. They might register subconsciously, and make him more likeable; some women might notice an increased attraction. For her, well…she tucked her hands underneath her thighs.

Red discreetly shot her a questioning look, to which she lifted her shoulders ever so slightly in a shrug and gave him a pair of really surprised eyeballs. He hid a smirk behind his hand.

Madden patted her knee sympathetically, and determinedly drank his soycaf without giving way to the snicker bubbling up inside.

"And you're Rip, right?" Teva asked of the only other woman in the room. She turned, scanning the woman briefly from head to toe. Tall, thin, elven, with cafe au lait skin and brilliant blue-green eyes. Her hair was really cool, curled tightly, and volumized enough so that it looked like it was electrified.

Switch was suddenly there and talking before the elf could even open her mouth.

"Rip - that's not spelled with all capital letters, is it? Because that would be funny since you're like a doctor, right?" He laughed at his own musings as he sat down beside her.

The elf shrugged one shoulder. "Take it however you want it," she answered, smiling sweetly at him. "And for the record, this?" She gestured between her and him. "No."

"Okay," Will said quickly, and slid a little further away, folding his hands between his knees. He looked up at Red. "So what's the plan?"

This, of course, was where Red tended to shine. The physical crap he could give a shit less about—"make Feral do the work" seemed to be his motto—but the stuff that required subtlety and panache? He was all over it.

The barest shift in his stance drew everyone's attention. He didn't clear his throat or make any of the customary nervous gestures one would expect of someone about to give a speech. Red was totally at ease as he began outlining the details of the plan. "At 1100 hours this morning Flight 2250 from Topeka, Kansas is going to land. One Doctor Melanie Barnes, a specialist in chemistry and pharmaceuticals, will be getting off that plane. At 1140, Flight 121 from St. Paul, Minnesota will also land. Doctor Eiji Masato is our target there. Horizon has sent a town car and a driver for both of them. The chauffeur will be meeting them at the gates. Feral—" Here the shaman's stoic expression broke for a moment as his lips twitched. "—and Ghost, your job is to intercept the chauffeur in the parking structure. Knock him out, stuff him in the trunk; I don't give a shit how you do it, just make sure he's out of the way."

Feral shot him a dark look from underneath her eyelashes. To give herself something other to do aside from punching the smug look off of his face, she lit up a cigarette.

Red slanted a look at her that said louder than any words, 'Really, Feral? Right now?'

She blew smoke in his direction defiantly. Who said she couldn't be passive-aggressive? They clearly didn't know her very well.

"Once you have the chauffeur taken care of Ghost will replace him at the gates. I have a uniform for you. You'll find it in one of the dress bags in the closet—it's labeled accordingly. Unfortunately, you'll have to provide your own footwear," Red continued casually.

Ghost nodded in the affirmative, making a gesture with two fingers that was almost, but not quite a salute. "No problem."

"Feral, I want you there as well to provide back-up should the good doctors become suspicious en route to the rendezvous point. I've secured appropriate attire for you as well." The look on Red's face could be aptly described as 'vengeance served cold.' "You'll have to gas them in the town car prior to reaching the rendezvous point, but you also need to get their comms. Figure it out."

She knew without a doubt that the 'attire' included high heels. That bastard. Feral flicked her ash on the carpet. His moue of distaste was almost enough to make up for the fact that she was going to have to kick ass in high heels, and sit in a car with the incredibly delicious-smelling Ghost.

"While they are doing that, the rest of us will proceed to the safe house which Ghost has been kind enough to provide. Switch, I need you to check the electronic security. Madden will take care of any physical security issues we may have. This needs to be top-notch, because we're holding the doctors here. The place is soundproofed, correct?" Red directed the question at Ghost with a lifted brow. The infiltration specialist merely nodded in reply.

"Good," Red mused with a self-satisfied little smirk, "Rip, make sure there's enough food and water there for two people for at least three days. Bring your supplies as well in case Feral needs to get rough with our guests. Following that, Madden and I will meet Ghost and Feral at the rendezvous, where we will switch vehicles, and proceed to the holding area. Rip, I want you waiting there just in case our guests need to be examined before we leave. While I realize that it may be more expedient to eliminate the doctors right off the bat, I am opposed to unnecessary homicide. If they fight you too hard, make a judgment call; otherwise, proceed as planned. At the end of the Run, we'll gas the doctors and dump them somewhere in the city completely unharmed." He waved his hand flippantly as though that was a minor detail, which for the most part it was. "Ghost, Feral, don't forget to take their comms from them. I'm saying it twice because it's just that important. Once our guests are secured, Feral will deliver them to Switch."

"Got it," Feral replied slowly, speaking at the same time that she let out the smoke she'd inhaled.

"Switch," Red looked directly at the tech, "You've got a little over twenty-four hours to get those comms done. You also need to hack Sterling Contractors Incorporated, drop Madden and Ghost's identities into the personnel system, and put them on the schedule as the crew assigned to finish the tile work in the south wing the next day. I wanted to give you ample time to do your work, and rest up before we hit the corp, so I built a little leeway into the plan-I need your brain in top hacking condition." When it seemed that the tech had gotten the message—don't overdo it, moron; sometimes those techs tended to push themselves past the point of exhaustion, and he'd found that hackers and uppers were generally a recipe for asinine behavior—Red turned to addressing the entire crew.

"We'll hit the corp at 1000 hours, though Rip and I will have to clock in at 0900. As new employees, they'll want to give us a tour of the facility, which should eat up most of the hour and deliver us back at the labs near to go time. Madden, Ghost, show up at 0930, move some boxes in, make it look like you're doing something. Then when the time comes break off, enter the hardcopy file room which you will find is nearby your work area, drop the relevant files in your supply boxes, and get the hell out. The workforce coordinator will have you back your supply truck up to a loading dock near the south wing, which should make getting out rather easy for you. Rip and I will merely take our lunches off-site, and with us the pharmaceuticals. Switch and Feral, the two of you should arrive at 0950. As part of your cover as CFS building inspectors, they will try to escort you through the building. You have to convince them that herding you along is…ill-advised. It makes you think they have something to hide. As such, they should just let you go on your merry way. From there it should be relatively easy to hack into the system. All pertinent details on what it is exactly that you are looking for have been sent to your comms. Disguises are all in the closet. If you have further questions, do not hesitate to ask." At that, Red took a seat in one of the crappy chairs by the two-person table, crossed an ankle over his knee, and steepled his fingers. It was clear that he considered himself done talking.

Switch rolled his eyes at the "relatively easy to hack into the system" part, once again taking advantage of the fact that no one could see his expression behind his glasses. There would be nothing "easy" about a hack into Horizon's system. And then there was the extra surveillance hack he'd have to do to help Phantom's team get in to do their extraction... At least he'd have some backup from them. A few technos in Horizon's node creating havoc would help cover _his_ Run as much as he was helping to cover theirs.

Feral brought up the info, made a face when it was discovered that her corper clothes would be the same outfit she wore at the airport, and promptly flicked another long cylinder of ash onto the carpet. The asshole deserved it.

When Red was finished, Will waited a beat, thinking there'd be more, then raised his hand tentatively when he realized that really was all the elf had to say. "Um...what about the RFIDs? On the doctors, I mean. With high profiles like that they'll be chipped, and I bet Horizon is already tracking their activity. If we wipe the chip they'll know something's wrong, and I can't just transfer the signal from one chip to another. I _can_ jam the signal for short periods of time - they'll wave that off as a normal glitch - but you guys won't get into the building if you aren't broadcasting that chip data."

"Yes, hm, absolutely," Red murmured, rubbing the side of his index finger under his lower lip, a gesture Feral had learned that meant he was deep in thought. "You're right. Switch, thank you for pointing out my oversight. I'm not certain where my head was at. For future reference though, this isn't elementary school; you don't have to raise your hand."

Rip looked at Switch, seeking further clarification. "So you're saying we need to take the RFIDs out of the docs and plant them on-"

"-In," Switch corrected, apology lacing his tone. "The Spiders will see them if they aren't actually under your skin. They look for that kind of thing..." He turned to Red again. "I can probably get away with a twenty minute jam, tops, before the monitoring system pings it for possible suspicious activity."

Feral bit back a chuckle at the look that momentarily flitted across Red's face. He'd forgotten about something, and Jesus, was he embarrassed about it, though as usual he covered it up smoothly.

"You are correct," the elf agreed, "The RFIDs do pose a problem. Rip, can you remove them? The problem here, of course, is that not only will you need to plant one in me, but also yourself. Madden has first aid training. If you can't handle the switch yourself, perhaps you could instruct him in the ways of minor surgical procedures?"

"Um, Red," Feral began quietly, uncharacteristically hesitant to voice her opinion. The poor guy was scrambling his wits, clearly. He hated being caught off guard. "The signal's only offline for twenty minutes. We'd have to start jamming it the second we leave the airport." She pulled up the information he'd sent to her earlier, and browsed through it until she found what she was looking for. "If it takes us ten minutes to reach the rendezvous, and another fifteen in transit to get to the safe house-which isn't including the time it'll time to move two unconscious adults from one vehicle to another-we're already out of time." And yes, she felt pretty proud for figuring all that shit out on her own. Tech-tard wins the day!

"We'll have to make the RFID swap in transit; you and Rip will both need to be on site," Madden concluded, "And you'll have to stay in the town car; Ghost will drop you off at the hotel Horizon's reserved for the docs."

"Hmm," Rip started in a thoughtful manner, "Surgery in a moving vehicle. Could be fun...as long as the chips weren't planted in their heads or something."

Even to Switch, who wasn't always the best at reading people, the glimmer of fear that flashed through Red's eyes was obvious.

He fought the urge to raise his hand again when he spoke. "Give me a minute, I can figure that out right now."

He lapsed into silence as he dug into the RFID tracker system, just using simple AR as it was designed to be more user friendly than several of the other systems he'd had to hack into for info. Lining up the identities of the doctors with their chip numbers was easy enough, and within two minutes he had located little blips on a map of their exact locations. Zooming in on those blips, he narrowed his vision all the way down on one of them until he could see exactly where on the doctor's body the RFID was located.

"Rip, yours needs to go in the back of your left shoulder. I'm sending an image to your comm." He cringed slightly at his statement. "Oh, sorry, probably should've asked _before_I accessed your comm..."

She shrugged again. "It's for good reason. Just stay out of my porn collection."

His mouth gaped open like a fish for a second, a slight flush creeping into his cheeks before he ducked his head and brought up the info on the other chip...which didn't help make him feel any more comfortable in the slightest.

Red picked up on the hacker's hesitation. "And mine?" he prompted.

"Uh...your guy must've been implanted when he was a newborn."

Slow smiles lit up the room on everyone's faces who _weren't _Red and Switch. Chips were injected into newborns in more...fleshy areas of the body.

"On the, um, the right side," Switch clarified.

"Not a problem," Rip assured, breaking the silence that Red had fallen into. "Just a matter of cutting them out, sterilizing, and injecting them into ourselves with a needle." She couldn't help the little smirk she shot Red's way. "Lucky for me, I have one with a big enough gauge for the procedure."

Feral had about a million snarky comments floating around in her head just then, but one look at Red's face made her bite her tongue with unexpected sympathy. Poor guy was going to get stabbed in the ass hardcore by a lady who looked like she didn't mind doing it at all.

She put her cigarette out in the ash tray, eyes on Red while she did it.

He caught the movement, smiling a little, and tipping his chin ever so slightly in acknowledgment. It was probably the closest they would get to an actual expression of sympathy. Feral avoided feelings as much as possible when she was around Red, and for his part the elf seemed to do the same. Perhaps he also thought things were better that way.

"So," Madden spoke, drawing attention to himself, though it was hard not to notice the ginormous troll in the room under normal circumstances anyway, "Let's break up and get started on our individual tasks. Switch, let me know when you're ready. We'll leave the prep the safe house together, alright?"

"I've got a vehicle out in the parking lot," Ghost stated, "To drop us off at the airport. It's…borrowed, so we can use it for the vehicle swap too. I'll just…" The man shifted away from where he'd been slouched against the wall, and walked to the closet, digging out his disguises. "…take these," he waggled the garment bags on his finger, "And go get ready. Feral—" The man paused, winking gamely at the adept, who flushed and quickly glanced away, "I'll meet you in the car." His words, innocent as they should have been, were paired with a slight suggestion. It was suddenly obvious that her strange behavior hadn't gone unnoticed after all.

Feral frowned, and added Ghost's name to the list of people she considered refraining from violently attacking a personal favor to them. "Yeah," she grumped, and waved cuttingly, the gesture far from friendly.

He vanished out the door.

"Rip, there's a suit in there for you as well," Red told the medic as he stood up. "If you don't require it, that's quite alright. I can return it without much fuss. For you as well, Switch."

Feral hesitated. She kind of wanted to offer some sort of verbal condolences about the ass-stabbing that he was about to receive, but it seemed that the meeting was breaking up and she really did need to get ready. After a moment of debate, she stood up, saying to Switch as she passed him, "Dibs on the shower."

She yanked a garment bag from the closet and was about to escape out the door when Red called out, "Shoes too." With a grimace, Teva pulled the shoe box off of the top shelf, eyed the logo with some distaste, and left in a huff. The forces of the universe were conspiring against her. That was the only explanation she could come up with.

Will, on the other hand, gave an impressed nod at the name brand suit. Always more of a t-shirt and jeans kind of guy, years of having to dress as the 'proper gentleman' he was supposed to be still clued him in to the world of respectable, high-end fashion. The fact that Red had gone all out for just an inspector's suit was a testament to the man's sense of style. The last time Will had worn clothes of this caliber...

Wordlessly, he followed Feral out of the room, still pensively looking down at the suit as he walked. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the extra care she took in stepping over the trip wire as she entered the room, and mentally scolded himself for already forgetting about it. Again.

As he likewise took an overly exaggerated step over the trap, he looked around at the mess he had made with the box packaging and his impromptu target practice. Sighing, he tossed the suit on his bed and began to clean it up, figuring he might as well do _something_productive while he waited for his turn in the bathroom. He also decided to make himself at least drink down some of the soymilk. If he was going to learn to be a 'normal' adult, he needed to start eating like one, and that meant getting used to the soy-based alternatives.

He got halfway through it before he gagged and gave up, throwing it in the garbage along with the rest of the trash he was picking up.

"Good call on the RFIDs," Feral commented as she snagged her toiletry kit out of her bag, and slinked off into the bathroom. She kicked the door shut behind her, and turned on the fan, lighting up another cigarette. It really was a problem, this constant urge she had to put things in her mouth. She considered quitting for about two-point-four seconds while she turned on the shower and adjusted the water temperature. Then a little voice chimed in singing, 'fuck it.' The chances of dying on a Run were much higher for her than the chances of living long enough to get cancer or emphysema; maybe less because of her adept-i-ness.

Stripping down, Teva stepped under the spray, angling her body just so in order to keep her cancer stick dry. For awhile she just enjoyed the heat and pulse against her back, letting it redden the pale skin. She'd always wanted a tattoo there, but with a glance down she eyed the second and last tattoo she had ever gotten. The tribal-ish design spiraled up her entire leg from the top of her foot, where it began life as a lotus flower. It was even done primarily in the brownish-red stain of quality henna, though the practice of mehendi was mostly a lost art form those days, and shaded delicately in key spots with pale green, pink, and gray. Thus the full extent of Red's punishment was made clear: he'd put her in heels, which no doubt meant she was also in a skirt, which meant a long, laborious process of covering the tattoo up. She didn't know what she'd done this time to irritate him to such an extent, but it must have been pretty bad.

Feral let the water douse the filter, and parted the shower curtain, pitching it into the toilet. After that, the actual showering process didn't take her long at all, scrubbing her skin, including the tiny paw print on her hip, and hair with the barely-scented 3-in-1 she preferred on 'runs, and shaving her parts that required shaving in an efficient amount of time. She stepped out as fresh as a daisy…or something, and the whole process didn't take her more than fifteen minutes.

Teva dried off with one of the scratchy motel towels, and finally took a peek in the garment bag. Immediately a sound left her that was akin to that of a tea kettle going off, only a lot angrier, and she was fairly certain that it carried outside of the bathroom.

Will had just finished getting the room back in order, including sopping up all the juice-ish from the carpet that hadn't already dried into it, when he heard something akin to an angry panther screaming in the bathroom.

He took a tentative step towards the door. "Feral...are you-"

She stormed out in a set of black underwear, flinging the door open so hard it banged into the wall, and headed straight for her comm with an angry stomp-stomp-stomp.

"Geezus!" Will shouted. Immediately, he averted his gaze and put a hand over his eyes, and just did his best to back up into a corner while she raged into her comm.

_Careful, Will, any sudden movements could shift the predator's focus._

She wasted no time in contacting Red, and was yelling before he could get a word in edgewise. "You fucking rat-bastard piss-ant…" her brain stalled, unable to think of more creative swears in English, so she began again in Romanian. "Calca che vacca! Sa mori tu, tantalau nenoricit! Du-te in pizda ma-ta, you sophomoric boob!" Then she realized she had gone straight to voicemail. "This is payback for the watch, isn't it?! It's just a stupid watch! Stop being such a little bitch about it." Teva paused, breathing deeply, striving for calm. "You had better pray that I don't have to do anything strenuous in this outfit, otherwise I will make your existence hell for the rest of your days." With that, she ended the communication, and almost—almost—chucked her comm at the wall. Her fist clenched, and she gave it some serious thought, then dropped it on the bed decisively, blowing a breath out of her nose.

Wordlessly, she retrieved her things from the bathroom, sat down on her bed, and unscrewed the cap on the thick make-up that Red had so thoughtfully provided along with a host of other items. One thing was certain: if she saw Red any time before she got that garter belt on, she was going to fucking strangle him with it.

At times like this, it was good that he didn't stand out...but being the only other person in the room meant he couldn't just be invisible like he practically became in a crowd. He nearly went into cardiac arrest when she finished her call and addressed him directly.

"Bathroom's all yours," Feral muttered darkly at her roommate.

Realizing she wasn't going to kill him, Will kept his hand up so he could block his view of her from his sight, quickly snatched his bag up off the floor, and pretty much fled into the relative safety of the bathroom.

"You are such a wuss," he muttered to his reflection in the mirror as he shut and locked the door behind him.

He took a little _extra_ time in the shower, absently humming Clair De Lune - a habit he'd picked up from his dad a long time ago - hoping whatever it was that had gotten his roomie so ticked off would've blown over somewhat by the time he decided to come out.

* * *

Switch was still in the bathroom, Teva noticed idly as she finished the cover-up of her tat and waited for the stuff to dry. She had no idea where Red had picked up such an item, but it was pretty magical stuff. It didn't rub off or fade. In fact, the only way to get it off aside from the special removing agent was to scrub vigorously with soap and water. The stuff stayed on better than super glue.

She slid on the old fashioned garter belt, and the sheer stockings. Once everything was settled, she shot another quick look at the bathroom door to make sure Switch was definitely not about to barge in on her doing something totally crazy. Teva took a picture of her thigh with the dark, lacy top of the thigh high showing, and the thin garter strap, and then she sent it off to Red with the spiteful little caption 'Good enough?' Yeah, apparently she was that big of a bitch.

It was a little game they liked to play called 'who could annoy each other the most?' Feral had held the record for awhile after the stunt with the Cartier watch, but now she was getting her comeuppance. Not only did she have to wear heels on a Run, but also she'd had to waste all that time putting on the concealer. To boot, Red had 'helpfully' remembered the last time she'd had to play dress-up, and had bitched endlessly about how the pantyhose had restricted her mobility. So now she was also wearing lingerie! He'd definitely won that round.

She finished dressing without further fanfare in the charcoal gray pinstriped skirt and jacket combo, and the maroon shirt. Teva even slipped on the non-prescription glasses in the case. They'd cover the piercing next to her eye sufficiently so that she wouldn't have to take it out. In the cheap mirror above the equally cheap dresser, Feral examined herself. She looked fine, she decided. Actually, better than fine. Okay, goddamnit, Red had great taste in clothes!

After a quick moment of debate, Feral put on the dreaded shoes. She needed to get used to them, and fast, so she paced around the room, absently smoking as she did so, stalling until the very last second because she did not want to be in a car alone with Ghost. Plus, she should maybe apologize to Switch for busting out there like a raging harpy in her underwear. Oh, procrastination was fun!

She checked the time, sighed, and checked her weapons again. _Man up,_ Feral told herself, and headed for the door despite her inner protests.

Feral slid into the back seat of a blue sedan that was hovering in the parking lot with Ghost behind the wheel. She immediately rolled down a window.

Ghost smirked.

With a growl in her voice, she informed him, "It's nothing personal. I have a sensitive nose, and you smell like that fake pheromone crap." Feral sniffed pointedly out the window.

That seemed to take the wind out of his sails a bit, and the next thing Teva knew Madden and Red were sliding into the car. Madden folded his bulk into the front seat, leaning it back a little for some extra room. It pressed against Feral's knees; she wouldn't be able to get out unless he put the seat back up. Still, she didn't complain because she knew how hard it was for a guy who was six-seven to fit into a compact space.

Red slid in the back seat with her, and when Rip appeared with a bag of supplies, which she stuffed in the trunk, he scooted over until his thigh was pressed along hers. With hardly a twitch, he murmured, "I got your message." As was normal, his eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, so it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. "Both of them." That time there was a decided smirk on his face.

Feral said nothing, and squashed over further toward the door when Rip slid in on Red's other side, smashing them all even closer together. A sudden thought occurred to her. "What about Switch?"

"Have to get him on the way back," Madden replied easily, contacting the hacker briefly to inform him of the change in plans.

Ghost pulled out of the parking lot.

* * *

**TBC…  
**


	5. Chapter 5

Murphy's Law

Chapter 5

* * *

Fandom: Shadowrun

Pairings: Mostly Gen with a dash of Feral/Red for your angsty delights, oh, and some brief Feral/Ghost

Rating: R

Warnings: violence, gore, mentions of cannibalism, homosexuality, rape, attempted rape, insanity

Archive: Ask

Author: Alex Kade and Lily Zen

* * *

Notes: Don't forget to leave a review or some other form of acknowledgment that you liked reading this! It makes us authors happy.

Disclaimer: Shadowrun belongs to Shadowrun peoples. Original characters belong to us.

* * *

It took Switch a few _more _minutes trying to decide what to wear. It was an important decision, having nothing to do with the fact that he wanted to be sure Feral wasn't still in crazy person mode. Really it boiled down to not knowing whether he could get by with just his Switch gear or if he needed his Liberator wear. If he was just doing a security check on the house he could do that in his sleep pretty much, but if he wasn't going to come back to the room for a while and needed to get cracking on Sterling, it'd be best to have his full mesh network. Shrugging, he eventually just decided to do both. He slipped on the armored shirt and layered his t-shirt and hoodie over the top, leaving the mask part folded and tucked down beneath his collar. It'd probably be too warm, but with the suit being part of his PAN system he could just make his body feel like it was holding to a normal temperature.

He grinned as he could imagine Kiki's voice in his head scolding him. "You better not overdo it, mister! That's a good way to give yourself heat stroke if you're not paying attention!"

He made a mental note to turn off the temp sim every so often to make sure he wasn't overheating.

Donning the striped cargos - also part of his network - he dumped everything out of the bag to reach the PAN-linked combat boots. His visor went into one of his pockets, he changed his hair to a navy blue, and with everything done, he opened the door a crack.

No sign of his roommate.

With a small sigh of relief (_seriously, Will, you have to stop being such a sissy_), he grabbed his glasses, headphones, and gloves off the bed where'd he left them, pocketed his little army of toys, and headed out the door.

Switch hadn't even gotten the door clicked all the way shut behind him when he got Madden's message.

"We couldn't have figured this out earlier?" he asked to no one, sighing as he pulled the door back open and turned himself sideways as he slipped back through into the room.

With the way he was sidestepping he was slightly off balance as he moved, so when his foot hit the wire that he had so carefully avoided on the way out, he couldn't center himself in time to keep from falling over. That turned out to be a blessing in disguise as he both felt and heard the crossbow bolt go zinging over his head, lodging into the door for the second time that day.

Will froze, his eyes wide as he contemplated his very close brush with death. And then he contemplated Feral's mood this morning.

"She's going to kill me."

Quickly, he scrambled to his feet and (after a little bit of a struggle) wiggled the bolt free of the door. Loading it back into the bow was pretty much impossible for him to do in the same way she had managed it; he had to take the whole weapon out of its hidey hole so he could cock it back. As he replaced it, he purposely tilted the aim down a little lower from its original angle so that if he tripped it again he at least wouldn't get an arrow through his brain. The shoulder/upper chest region (at least he hoped that's where it was now pointing) would still suck, but he might actually live through it. If Feral wanted to kill him for tampering with her setup in the name of self-preservation, then at least he could say he didn't go down without making an attempt at survival.

That done, he decided to leave the wire loose until it was time to leave, then he'd rig it up again once he was on the outside… and crouched down low; maybe even all the way down on his stomach.

_Stupid traps are stupid._

Deciding to make himself useful, he pulled up the RFID tracker system again just to monitor the progress of their soon-to-be guests.

* * *

Taking a deep breath of fresh air, Feral closed her eyes, concentrating on putting her mind in the correct setting for the upcoming task. She stayed that way until Ghost whipped into the airport parking lot, threw the car in park mid-aisle, and they all piled out, Madden only to cram himself into the driver's seat and head straight toward the exit.

Rip's bag dangled on her arm, and she asked quietly, "When will the chauffeur be here?"

Red checked his watch habitually—a new one, though not as nice as the Cartier—and told her, "Any minute now. Service drivers get primo parking here in the second aisle. Come on…" He jerked his head toward the smoking area that Feral had already planted herself in casually.

"I'll keep a look out," Ghost told them, tugging his chauffeur's cap a little further over his eyes, and leaning against a shiny black town car with a cigarette of his own.

They separated, and to a casual eye it appeared that the four of them didn't know each other at all. They were merely strangers caught in the same place at the same time waiting for their departures and arrivals.

They caught the chauffeur just as he was walking through the crosswalk to the main passenger doors.  
Ghost spotted the plate, and subvocalized, 'He's here. Pincer?'

'Hell yes,' Feral replied, stubbing out her cigarette. She looked very official in her black pumps and actioneer suit, her short hair brushed into place. As the man in uniform began walking toward them, she stood up, and began walking toward him in the distracted, busy-body fashion of corpses everywhere, fiddling with her comm, and trying to act like she didn't even see him.

Red and Rip didn't move, but they watched carefully to see if they'd need to intervene. They didn't; Feral and Ghost apparently worked well together.

Just as Ghost grabbed the guy from behind, and the chauffeur turned, going to yell, Feral grabbed her gun from inside her jacket. She'd preloaded it with tranq rounds, and put one right in the driver's chest.

Ghost covered his mouth with one hand until he slumped, and as a team they lifted his dead weight back to the car. They took the driver's keys, deactivating the alarm and popping the trunk. Pretty soon they were shutting it on his peacefully sleeping face.

Red and Rip slipped into the back of the limo with Red reminding them, "Remember, terminal A. You won't be able to get past security without a ticket, so just let them come to you."

She almost rolled her eyes at his assumption that she'd forget such a thing. "Let's go," Feral stated aloud, shoving the chauffeur's sign at Ghost's chest. He caught it awkwardly with a little sound of surprise. Rolling her eyes, Teva turned and began to walk away. They had three minutes until the first plane was due to land, and a quick check of the schedule showed that it was most definitely on time.

* * *

"Huh, good timing," Switch mused as he got an alert from Madden just a couple minutes after he'd re-set the crossbow.

"_Be right down,_" he sent back, and very carefully hooked the trip wire back up before making his way to the car. He also set up an alarm in his PAN to alert him upon nearing the door that the trap was there. One close call was more than enough for him, thank you very much.

Madden quirked an eyebrow at Switch as the hacker jumped into the car. "It's a little warm for the layers, isn't it?"

"Not when you can regulate your own temperature," Switch smiled in return.

Nodding, Madden pulled the vehicle out into traffic and added, "That's good, because with Rip at the airport that leaves us to do all the prep work."

Will frowned. "Thaaaat means we have to carry all the supplies in, doesn't it?"

Madden's answer in the way of a simple little smile made Will huff out a little sigh. Hackers were always left to do the grunt work when the "guns" were out doing their thing. If there were such a thing as a Runner's Union, he'd totally start a formal protest against that sort of slave labor. At least this time he had a big, strong, troll friend to act as a fellow pack mule. In fact, maybe he could use the princess bit to his advantage and guilt trip Madden into doing more of the heavy labor.

They were fairly silent as they traveled, Madden watching the road while Will kept an eye on the trackers and surfed the Matrix at the same time. It looked like the lady doctor had landed and was making her way through the terminals at an unrushed pace. He didn't blame her; he'd be taking his time, too, if he knew he still had forty minutes to kill before his colleague showed up.

His attention was brought back to the real world when Madden turned a corner and slowed the car to a stop. In front of the car stood a line of gangers all of Asian ethnicity, all looking rather casual but somehow threatening at the same time.

"Yakuza?" Will asked quietly.

Madden shook his head. "This isn't their usual territory. I'm betting it's just a street gang."

"Maybe we should back up and take a different route."

Again, Madden shook his head and flicked his eyes up at the rearview mirror. Switched turned and looked behind the car where another group of gangers where filing in to block their retreat. One of the guys up front shouted something and took a step towards the car, gesturing for them to roll down a window...with his handgun.

Will looked over in alarm as Madden moved to do exactly as asked. "What are you doing?"

"Cracking the window," the troll answered with a shrug. "Unless you think it's a better idea to wait for them to shoot the glass out?"

"I was thinking we could just, I don't know, floor it or something? They'll move...won't they?"

Madden flicked his eyes at the rearview again, to which Switch obediently turned around to discover the AV rocket being aimed in their direction.

"Oh," he murmured as he faced the front again. "I guess we better see what they want then."

The ganger in charge, the one with the gun that he'd used to gesture they should roll down their window, stepped a little closer, gun cocked and ready. With a mean little grin, the small Asian man spoke. "Hoi, you're in Gold Lion territory, guys. You wanna go through, you gotta pay. Lotta bad elements here. See, we can guarantee your safety…for a price though. Otherwise, we can't be held responsible for what happens to you inside this turf." His voice, while not particularly deep or malicious, was somehow all the more threatening because of its casual tone and matter-of-fact speech pattern.

The guy stepped back, shifting slightly to one side to pointedly illustrate the wall of gangers blocking their vehicle in.

"And the asking price for 'protection' is...?" Madden asked, seeming far too calm.

Switch wasn't sure if that made him feel better or more anxious. One thing that _did _make him feel better was the fact that some of the gangers had cyberware, and some of the others had smartgun systems. Glad he had opted to don his Liberator suit, he slowly began to slide his way into each of their systems. If there was going to be a fight he'd actually be useful in this one, and those guys were about to become life-sized versions of his remote controlled toys.

The Liberator smiled slightly.

_Your move, assholes._

With a laugh, the gangers' spokesperson made an obvious visual appraisal of their vehicle, them, and its contents. He smirked. "1500 nuyen, omae."

Behind him, some of the gangers snickered, and there was a subtle rattle as they shifted, readying themselves to attack. They knew there was almost no way the guys in the car could afford that kind of pay-out—it was almost enough for a month's rent-not unless they were doing something shadier than the gangers. In truth, though the money would be nice, they'd earn more from stripping the car, selling the parts individually, and pawning what items they found within.

Plus, the PAN gear the human had on was pretty fraggin' sweet…

"I'll give you a minute to think about it," the gang leader grinned, and made a generous show of stepping back from the vehicle.

* * *

Rip nonchalantly pulled out her medical bag, set it down on the seat, and began pulling out some of the things that she would need, one of which was a syringe that she was attaching a none-too-tiny needle to. As she held it up, she maintained a mask of indifference despite the fact that before too long, that thing would be stabbing into the back of her shoulder. For his part, Red mimicked her nonplussed attitude on the outside, but inside he wanted nothing more than to flee from that limo and never look back.

He _really _didn't do well with pain.

"You want to do me?" Rip asked casually as she worked.

The question caught Red a little off guard. "Excuse me?"

She smirked and leaned towards him a little. "Or I can ask Feral, and you can watch..."

Red maintained his composure despite the myriad of mental images that flooded through his brain at the suggestion. "She'd eat you alive," he finally said with a small smirk of his own.

Arching a sly eyebrow, she leaned across the seats even more to close the gap between her and Red. "Tempting as that is," she began a little seductively, "I was talking about the injection. Keep your head out of the gutter." She gave him a couple little pats on the cheek and sat back, her demeanor shifting right back to business mode. "And don't worry about the pain. I've got a local anesthetic. You won't feel a thing."

He sighed in relief at that.

"Until it wears off," she added with a little shrug.

Red couldn't help but slouch down on his bench, definitely put off by this whole ordeal. It was no wonder he'd overlooked the RFIDs - clearly his brain had blocked that part out in hopes of making the issue just disappear entirely. If he thought it wasn't real, then it couldn't _possibly _be real.

He _really_ wished that was the way the world worked sometimes.

* * *

Feral was standing a casual distance away from Ghost, but when she spotted the doctor making her way out of the concourse. 'She's here,' she warned her teammate on the off-chance that he hadn't spotted her yet.

'I see,' Ghost replied easily.

She was pretty in a particular way with dark hair that curled in tight little ringlets, and mocha colored skin; on the voluptuous side, though with her height she carried it well. Doctor Barnes smiled as Ghost stepped forward to introduce himself. They laughed and talked for awhile, waiting for the other doctor to arrive.

Feral rolled her eyes imperceptibly as Doctor Barnes made noises of 'I'm famished,' and Ghost quickly whisked her off to the coffee joint in the place. She took a seat in one of the chairs, playing half-heartedly with her comm. Nothing that would make her sick, of course. For the most part, she just pulled up her messages, and only if someone looked at her did she start fiddling. She saw Masato coming to Security, and then he was being politely but firmly waylaid by terminal officers. "Shit," she hissed under her breath. 'Guys, we've got a problem. Masato's being held up by TSA. They're escorting him somewhere else.'

* * *

Switch had just gotten his hook into the last piece of cyberware when he was alerted to something going on in the RFID tracker system he still had up.

"Uh...Madden, not to make life more complicated than it is right now or anything, but it looks like there might be a little problem at the airport."

"What kind of problem?" the troll asked, keeping his eyes on the gangers.

"The doctor guy's being taken to security."

Switch went from simple AR controls to linking his sim up to the all the pawns he was about to control. It was the first time he'd used it since 'Carn had fessed up to his alteration, and out of curiosity, he took a second to actually pry into the sim's user settings. He had to dig deep, but there it was, a simple little switch he would've never noticed if 'Carn hadn't told him it was there: Hot/Cold. It would only take a thought to flip it...

Will pulled back, shaking off the fear of what was inside his head. Now wasn't the time to worry about it. He needed to focus on the current predicament they'd somehow managed to find themselves in...and whatever it was that Madden was saying.

"What?" he asked.

"I said 'good'," the troll repeated. "If they're being held up at the airport, it means we don't have to worry about being a little late picking them up."

"Oh," Switch said, then caught some snippet of conversation going on between two of the guys standing back behind the team leader. It was in Japanese, but that was the one language Damien had made him practice until he was perfectly fluent - "good for business," apparently.

"Don't give them the money," he blurted out, and at Madden's glance, he shrunk down a little in his seat. "They want our stuff too. Well, my stuff at least. They're going to take it whether we pay them or not."

Madden grinned. "Oh, I wasn't planning on giving them anything." He turned back to the window and said a little louder, "Thank you for your offer of protection, but I think we'll have to decline."

If Madden's "calm" look had made Switch uneasy before, the troll's smile was even more disconcerting. Switch turned his attention back to the systems he had under his control. Whatever Madden was about to do, he needed to be ready for it.

The gangers started laughing.

"Oh yeah?" the first one asked, then shook his head with mock disappointment. "That's too bad, omae."

A little nod to one of the others had him springing into action, and he sliced a monofilament blade through the front right tire. Another guy jumped on the trunk, bouncing up and down on it like a trampoline, and laughing his ass off. When he grew tired of that, he started punching the blades that snicked out of his arms into the roof.

"I told you, lotsa 'bad elements' here," the first guy chuckled, and turned to walk away, leaving the others to converge on them.

The first blade came down harmlessly through the roof between Madden and Switch, but the second one that came before either of them could react sliced down into Will's left arm. He let out a little cry and pulled away so the weapon wouldn't cut him further on its way back up, and, clamping a hand over the deep furrow in his arm, he directed his attention to that man's cyberarms.

"Switch-" Madden started.

The hacker shook his head and offered up a tiny, reassuring smile. "We have a volunteer for contestant number one."

A second later there was a scream on the roof, and then the guy was tumbling off, his arms crossed over his chest with the blades protruding neatly from each of his biceps, locking his hands into place. With the sim on, Switch had retracted the weapons, folded the mechanical arms up so that each fist was against an upper arm, and let the blades shoot back out, slicing neatly through the nerves and wiring in the cyberware that controlled pain and movement. Will felt the pain too, and quickly let the connection drop before it became an issue, glad he hadn't flipped his sim to Hot. That would've sucked.

The rest of the gangers froze for a second, watching their brother writhe around on the ground entrapped by his own cyberware, giving Madden just enough time to shoot a concerned look to Will's bleeding arm. "Are you okay?"

"No," Switch hissed, and looked up as the now even-more-pissed-off gangers convened on them, "but I think we have bigger problems right now."

"Stay here," Madden ordered, his voice holding an edge that Will hadn't heard before. The troll didn't wait for an answer as he practically leaped from the car, tackling down the first guy in his path. The ganger was dead before he hit the ground, and Madden was already moving to the next guy.

"Two down," The Liberator mumbled and turned his attention to the two guys locking aim on Madden with their smartguns. He could only control one at a time, but with only the time it took to will a thought into his brain, he could render both guns useless in under a second. In the first, he altered what the man was viewing in his targeting system, making it look like he was locking onto the troll when, in fact, his aim was a little too far to the right. The shot fired wild, hitting nothing but brick wall, but it alerted Madden to the weapon. He finished off his newest victim with one hand while simultaneously reaching down to his boot with the other, yanking out a throwing dagger and embedding it into the shooter's throat before the guy could even think to take another pass at firing the weapon.

While that was happening, Liberator had already moved on to the other guy's weapon, making it flare off warnings in the shooter's smartlink system. Alarms went off alerting the man that the gun was about to heat internally to the point of exploding, making him instinctively drop it to the ground and back up.

"Sore wa dageki o tsumorida!" he shouted, causing his buddies to fall back, giving Madden the space he needed to regroup for another attack.

"He said his gun's gonna blow," Liberator translated to Madden with a grin, "but it's not. And the guy behind the car with the AV...can't move his legs anymore."

The troll smiled and took advantage of the situation.

The guy behind the vehicle started panicking as he watched the troll approach. He couldn't move his legs. Why couldn't he move his fucking legs?! "I can't move!" he finally shouted to his buddies in a panic.

Two of them came to his defense, circling the troll warily with their weapons up. The first held in his hand one of the cleverly designed monofilament whips, allowing him to keep the distance between them a little further, and a fancy pair of shock gloves on his hands. The second was wielding a Warhawk.

They gave each other a quick look, and as though they'd just decided, the guy with the whip struck first.

As the whip lashed out, Liberator moved "his" leg, kicking the weapon wielder in the shin. The whip, already difficult to control in even an expert's hands, flicked to the ground at Madden's feet.

"Dude, what the fuck?" the whip guy spat out as he retracted the line, ready to go again before the troll could get any closer.

"It's not me! I swear!" the AV guy answered in return as his legs spun around to also kick at the guy who was now taking aim with the Warhawk, also sending the shot off course.

Madden's eyes gleamed in amusement as he watched the guy's awkward steps, the upper body not matching the movements the lower body was making. He had to shift to the side a few feet to avoid the second lash of the whip that had been thrown off its trajectory by another of Switch's awkward kicks, then used those precious few milliseconds between lashes to get even closer to his targets.

"Shit," he heard Switch suddenly curse before a round of automatic gunfire went off behind him. He couldn't turn to look, though, not without risking taking a hit from the whip, a weapon that could easily sever his arm if he wasn't careful. He took the fact that the AV guy was still stomping and kicking around like a seizure victim meant the tech wasn't dead, but the faltered kick at the Warhawk guy probably wasn't a good sign. The gun went off, the aim merely knocked a little lower as a result of the weaker nudge from his brother's boot throwing him a little off balance. Madden was only able to move enough to avoid the bullet from blasting a hole straight through his thigh, but the channel the graze left in his muscle was a bit more than enough to write home about.

AV guy finally dropped the weapon as his metal legs suddenly went into an all-out assault on the Warhawk guy. Apparently whatever Switch was doing, he'd seen Madden take the hit and was pissed about it.

The fight and ensuing chase as Warhawk man tried to flee from the onslaught took those two gangers out of the picture for the moment, leaving Madden on his own to face off against the guy with the whip and shock gloves. If he could get the whip away, he'd stand a much better chance.

More machine pistol fire sounded from the direction of the car, but he still couldn't look. He just had to trust that Switch could handle himself against those last two guys until he was done taking care of his current opponent. Injured as he was, turning his back on the enemy would mean end game.

"I'm gonna cut you up and serve you to the 'hood for supper, trog," the man with the whip sneered. He drew back and snapped forward with his whip, sending the retractable cord flinging forward.

Over by the vehicle, one remaining subordinate thug was aiming a Steyr at the harmless-looking guy in the passenger seat, and holding down the trigger, spraying the car with wide bursts.

The leader started shouting, "What are you doing, moron?! We gotta salvage this thing, or did you forget that's where the money's at?"

When the ganger didn't cease fire, his boss aimed his own pistol at him, and fired a warning shot that whizzed past his head to get the guy's attention. Unfortunately for the leader, the moron was jumped up on PCP, and having a violent reaction to whatever it had been cut with. He wasn't listening anymore; he'd become a mindless berserker.

Switch had been happily puppeteering leg guy when movement off to his right side caught his attention.

"Shit," he barely got out as a burst of machine pistol rounds suddenly slammed into the door of the car. The guy's aim was all over the place, most of the shots trailing up the back compartment before finally finding their way to the front seat where Switch was already moving to vacate. He dove across to the driver's side and heard the glass behind him shatter, feeling the impact of four rounds striking him in a spray starting from his lower left side diagonally up across his back to his right shoulder. The armor kept the bullets from piercing his body (and now he was _really_ glad he had opted to wear his Liberator uniform under his clothes - heat stroke be damned), but it didn't prevent the impacts from harshly throwing him down to the street, the wind completely knocked out of him, and his back feeling like some pro-ball player just took a bat to him.

He did his best to keep an eye on the feed from AV guy, still trying to keep up control despite the fact that he was struggling simply to breathe at the moment. When he saw Madden go down, blood spraying from his thigh, it irritated him that he'd failed in his self-assigned task. Forcing his lungs to draw in air, he rolled over onto his stomach and took his anger out on the guy who had fired the damaging shot, pummeling him with chaotic kicks until he was forced to either shoot his friend or run. The guy ran, and Switch kept up pursuit.

A second later, he was reminded of the guy with the machine gun as another volley of bullets crashed through the car above him. Letting out another curse, he dragged himself forward and sat up with his back against the tire, completely penned in on either side by the wild gunfire. Quickly, he set up a little timed program within AV guy's cyberware, locking the legs in auto mode on a tracking system to pursue the signal from warhawk guy's commlink. That would keep them busy for at least five more minutes. He hoped Madden could handle the whip guy, because there weren't any more pawns on the board for Switch to play with.

One of the rounds ripped through the car and nailed his already injured arm, making him cry out in pain as more blood was pulled from the long gash. The new wound formed a horizontal tear, combing his two injuries into a macabre cross on his upper arm. Spitting out a mouthful of curses he'd learned from his slew of action sims over the years, he dug into his pockets for his drone friends.

"Okay, guys, this is life or death," he directed as he set the toys into action. "Take him down."

* * *

Red traced an eyebrow with his fingertip, his only sign of alarm over this new hiccup in what he had originally thought was a flawless plan. He hated improvising, and yet they'd already been forced to do more of it than he was comfortable with. It didn't bode well for how the actual Run was going to go down.

"Stay where you are," he instructed Feral with a sigh. "I'll see if I can't have your little tech puppet find out what's going on."

Rip glanced up from whatever it was she was doing with her instruments. "Murphy's Law. Always build it into the plan."

"Trust me, I've been working with Feral for long enough to think that the girl _invented _Murphy's Law." He called up Switch on his comm and was surprised when the hacker picked up before the first alert beep even chimed.

"I'm not fucking blind. I'll deal with it in a minute, so fuck off. I'm busy," was the tech's rushed way of both greeting and goodbye.

One of Red's eyes twitched under his glasses.

"Feral, what have you been teaching your pet?" he asked, trying to match the crude language with the awkward little tech geek's normal demeanor. Things did not compute. That, of course, meant it had to be her fault.

'Stop calling him my pet, douchehat. It's not like I've got a leash and a collar for him. Although…' her voice trailed off teasingly, even though in the waiting room her eyes were focused on the door that Masato and several TSA agents had disappeared behind. Feral never finished the thought, cursing aloud as she watched the time sliding away from them.

In the coffee shop she saw Ghost and the lady doctor talking, laughing, and then even she was glancing at the time, expression shifting to something like worry.

'We need to find out what's going on in there,' Feral stated. 'Barnes is getting twitchy.'

Ghost was clearly doing his best to keep her preoccupied, but there was only so much he was capable of…in public.

'They've been in there way too long for a cursory pat-down,' she pointed out. 'I propose a new plan: I put the motion forward to the court that we get Barnes in the limo, knock her ass out, and Rip can do her surgery thing. While she's slicing and dicing, we stage a rescue of the other doc so that we can properly kidnap him. All in favor say "aye".'

"I'm ready when you are," Rip answered in her casual, go with whatever attitude.

Ghost's response was to make the tiniest eye contact with Feral, and tilted his head in a nearly imperceptible nod before turning his charming smile back on Barnes.

Red thought it over a little longer. "Rescue the mark just to kidnap him. It's just crazy enough to work, _if_ we can get our little friend, Switch, to at least black out airport surveillance. Would you like to handle that, Feral? He wasn't very...accommodating on my last attempt to contact him."

'I also gotta buy a ticket to get through airport security,' Feral pointed out lightly, 'So how about I ask Switch to transfer some nuyen from your cred account into Sarah's? Because I am soooooo not blowing my own dough on this. Your crazy plan, your bank roll. Otherwise, you know me; I'll just hop the line and start hitting everybody who gets in my way.'

Ghost hid a snicker in his coffee cup, and Feral could almost see the look of annoyance on Red's face, not to mention the slightly mournful expression he'd bear when he thought about all that nuyen flying out of his cred account, and his dwindling balance. She savored the fantasy for a moment longer.

"Switch," Feral asked quickly, "You busy?"

* * *

His comm alerted him to Feral's call, but the fear and real pain kept him from flipping to Liberator mode on her. He wasn't in his safe little VR world on this one, and he'd run out of pawns.

"I know, Feral, I know, and I'll get to it. I promise. Just give me like five more minutes." He sucked in a breath and sent a barrage of laser fire from all five drones into the shooter at once, aiming at different parts of the man's body. Normally not one for messy violence, in this case he didn't really think he had an option.

Somewhere behind the car he heard Madden let out a frighteningly pissed-off-troll-like bellow, and he hoped that meant he was smashing that guy's face in instead of getting sliced to bits by the whip.

The gang leader watched as his rogue gang member was shot up by a fleet of drones. He glanced sideways at Tommy Lin, his bloodthirsty cousin with the whip, and off into the distance where the other two remaining gangers had fled. With an exasperated sigh, he began backing out of the fight. Fuck 'em. They hadn't called him Cockroach when he was little for nothing. He knew how to survive, and with a single glance he could tell that he'd already lost.

He really needed to work on buddying up to a more intelligent caliber of low-life.

Madden had to time this just right. It would hurt to run on his injured leg, and the shock gloves would pose a problem, but he needed to end this. Switch was back there going up against a machine gun with no real weapons of his own. The kid was going to die if Madden couldn't take this guy out.

He waited until the whip lashed out again, and he dove to the side in a semi-controlled roll, coming up awkwardly on his bad leg. Ignoring it, he made a dash for the man before the whip could snap back at him, tackling him to the ground and sending the more dangerous weapon flying off to the side. The shock gloves were hitting him immediately, both zapping him with a jolting charge of electricity at the same time. He collapsed to his side and gasped as the guy threw another punch at his ribs, smiling while the jolt rocked Madden's torso.

And then the gunfire in the background abruptly ended, which meant there was nothing left to shoot at. Madden hadn't had enough time to get the know the kid, but he was a teammate, and somewhere under that quirky exterior the troll could tell there existed a brave soul who fought for the things and people he cared about, and...he was Feral's friend. Teva didn't have many of those, and the thought that he had failed to protect one of them pumped new adrenaline through his system, masking the pain from the shocks and from his leg.

Rage took over, and Madden reached out for the guy's ankle, grabbing it and wrenching it off the ground. The guy, who was leaning over his "victim," was well off balance, and he found himself being flipped onto his back. A half second later, the troll let out the most frightening bellow he had ever heard, and then he cried out as both his wrists snapped with the grip of the larger man. A hard hit to his left side just beneath his ribcage made him choke out a pathetic whimper (that had to be his spleen rupturing, he was sure), followed by two solid punches to the right side of his chest (he could hear his ribs crack and break) left the man gasping for air. A punch to his stomach doubled him over onto his side, and the vomit that came up was thick with blood. Madden took the opportunity to swing his hand hard into the man's back, destroying that kidney, before he was through.

That man would die painfully slow unless the CrashCart came to pick him up, but that was of no concern to the troll. They had attacked first.

The delusional druggie roared as the drones fired tiny lasers through his body, but as high as he was, he didn't register the pain. Instead, he turned to firing on the tiny bots, his mind only recognizing them as the source of the annoying spots on his body. He was going to crush them, and then…then he was going to fraggin' kill anybody else that got in his way. As to what he was fighting for, the addict no longer had a clue. He only knew that he needed to fight, and to kill because for some fraggin' reason everybody was out to get him. He'd show them. He'd show them all. Nobody was gonna mess with Slim and live.

Gunfire suddenly started up behind him again, and Madden snapped his head around, a mixture of disbelief and just plain relief playing across his face.

"Dammit!" he heard Switch shout, and it was like music to his ears.

His joy at knowing the tech was alive, though, quickly dwindled as he saw the predicament the kid had gotten himself into. He was stuck, crouched down as small as he could be and covering his head with his hands, trying his best to make himself as small a target as possible amidst the wild gunfire. From what he could see of the shooter, Madden knew instantly that the man had lost it. He was covered in tiny, bleeding holes, wounds that probably would've taken down a normal man just with their sheer numbers. Even a sliver of glass shoved through the wrong place could kill a person, and that guy looked like he'd suffered from more than one sliver.

The man let out a frenzied scream as the bullets in his clip ran out, and Madden took the time for the guy to change the clip to roll over and reach for the dropped AV. He got it set just as the enemy had begun to move around the car, logic finally dictating that if he wanted to hit his hidden target, it'd be easier if he was on the same side of the vehicle. With no more time to waste, Madden lined up his shot and fired as soon as the man was in full view.

The missile hit the ganger square in the chest and went straight through, dropping his body to the ground in a heap as blood and gore spilled from the hole. Switch lowered his arms and turned away from the sight, knowing that it had already lodged itself somewhere in his brain for future nightmare use.

Madden sighed and pushed himself to his feet, then limped his way over to the car where the hacker still sat, looking a little shaky and pale.

"You shoot that guy with something?" he asked, drawing Switch's attention further away from the ghastly image that lay only a few yards to his right.

Switch shook his head, his answer coming out in a slow, slightly shocked manner, "Uh...Bruce and the gang Hulked out on him, but then he killed them. He killed my Avengers."

Madden had no idea what that meant. Taking a moment to peer around the other side of the car, he caught sight of a pile of mostly little plastic and metal pieces. One of the chunks was bigger than the others, and he limped around to pick up a little toy drone marked with a number four. He brought it back around to Switch.

"You can probably fix this one," he offered.

The hacker gingerly began to reach for it with his right arm - the one not bleeding - but hissed and tucked it up against his chest.

Alarm flared up in the troll, once again, and he immediately began searching for bullet wounds. "Were you hit?"

"Like five times," Switch groaned, leaning his head back against the car and closing his eyes.

Madden grunted as he was forced to lean more weight on his bad leg so he could squat down next to the kid. He didn't see any blood aside from the arm wound, but he couldn't be sure when Switch's back was still pressed against the tire.

The tech's eyes snapped back open and he looked down at the troll's bleeding thigh. "Whoa, hey! What are you doing? You can't crouch like that!"

"You said you were-"

"Hit, not shot. I have armor," Will explained. He moved to push his right hand against the car in order to lever himself to his feet, but his shoulder screamed out at him again in protest, and he dropped back down the couple inches that he had gained. "Ow," he gasped, wincing at the soreness that seemed to cover his entire back.

Madden shook his head with a frown. Armor didn't protect against bruises, and the hacker didn't exactly have a lot of body fat to soften the blow from a bullet's impact. He was lucky the shots had to travel through the car before they reached him. At that close range, impacts like that could've still been lethal if they'd hit the right spots. Still, Madden was willing to bet there were a few bruised ribs involved at least, and judging by the tenderness of his arm, mostly likely a bruised scapula as well. He'd take a closer look once they were at the safehouse where they could treat their wounds in relative peace.

"Come on, kid," he grunted as he rose to his feet, holding out a hand to help the tech up.

Switch debated for a few seconds which would hurt less - using the arm that was bleeding all over the place, or the one that felt like a horse had kicked him in the shoulder blade. He went with horse arm, and probably would've gone back down had Madden not steadied him. Once he looked like he could stand on his own, Madden handed over the toy, and Switch gave the troll a little nod in thanks. He smiled sadly at Clint and slipped the lone drone into his pocket, keeping his eyes glued to the car as he slowly made his way to his door, wincing while he walked at the pain radiating from where the shot had hit above his left hip. He didn't want to see the massacred remains of the rest of his little bots - once again a comfortable, familiar reminder of his past life that had been torn from him nearly as soon as he had gotten them, just like the fancy food the night before. At times like this, he really felt the universe had it out for him.

"Let's get out of here," he sighed as he carefully lowered himself into his seat.

"Already ahead of you," Madden agreed, putting the car that had sat idling the whole time back into drive.

This was _not_ a good way to start a Run.

* * *

Frankly, Teva was shocked that Switch hadn't taken her head off, but she guessed he really must be in a situation if he forgot about Liberator mode. Though she had her own problems at the moment, Feral still hoped Madden and the techie were okay. She cursed themselves for getting cocky, for thinking the plan was so simple, so smooth. It was the chaos factor, Eris throwing her dice again and watching the world tip on its head. Never forget about the chaos factor.

'It looks like Switch and Madden are a little preoccupied, guys,' she finally told them. Feral worried at her blunt tipped nails for a moment. She grinned as a sudden thought occurred to her, and she almost could have smacked herself for not thinking of it before. Then again, why was she the one doing the thinking anyway?

Just as she was about subvocalize her thoughts again, Red's voice came on the line. 'Then we'll have to go in blind. Feral, meet me by the restroom. Ghost, get the target to the limo. Assist Rip.'

With a little laugh that Feral passed off as something she was looking at on the nets, she shot back, 'Aw, you took the words right out of my mouth, hot stuff. Bathroom rendezvous it is.'

Ghost made a display of looking at the time and sighing.

"What do you say we get out of here, huh? I can always come back for the other guy later." He gave her a little wink and covered one of her hands with his. "I could take the limo on a slight detour..."

Barnes flushed, but nodded just the same. She let him grasp the hand he was touching, helping her to her feet before leading her in a non-rushed manner out to the car. Like the good chauffeur and gentleman he was, he opened the door and gestured for her to enter.

"After you," he said with that remarkable smile.

She kept her eyes practically glued to his until the last second when she turned to make sure she wouldn't hit her head on the frame. Surprise didn't even have time to register in her brain before she found a hand gripping her wrist, followed by a sharp prick, and felt her body shutting down against her will.

Ghost made sure the girl didn't fall backwards, and helped Rip ease her onto the empty bench that Red had vacated only moments before. He then slid in beside the elf, quirking an eyebrow up at her.

"What'd you use?" he asked.

"Narcojet," she answered simply. "Help me get her shirt off, and don't be a smartass about it."

The comment he was about to make died on Ghost's lips and he obediently did as told. He'd seen the needle lying out on the cloth on the seat, and did _not_ want that going into _him._

As that was going on out in the parking lot, Feral saw Red glide into the airport, a stunning figure as always. He headed for the bathrooms, the little alcove carved into the wall, a door on either side.

She got up and followed him, the anticipation bringing a smile that was equal parts peaceful and eager to her face. When Teva caught up to him, she grasped his wrist, turning him with a slight tug, and shoving him up against the wall, out of sight of the security cams. She leaned in close, so close that their bodies almost touched, and if anyone happened to see them they'd think it was just a couple having an intense public reunion.

Red's eyebrow went up, and he began slowly, "What-?"

However, he didn't get very far before Feral curled their hands together in a downright intimate gesture, and winked. "So," she started, "What's on the menu? You gonna make us invisible or what?"

With a rueful shake of his head, the shaman replied, "That's the plan."

"Oh, good, because we've got to get both you damsels back in time to get stabbed in the ass," Feral quipped back, leaning up on her tiptoes, voice barely a whisper. Her tone was throaty, seductive, and yet playfully amused.

Red realized why a moment later when he heard Rip scoff, and wonder, 'So that makes me the prince?' He shot Feral a withering glare.

She merely smirked in reply, and said to Rip, 'Damn right, it does. Prince of the BDSM-Medical Fetish Ball.'

'That's hot. I can't wait for our threesome, Red,' Rip quipped in her driest tone.

"Teva," Red drawled confidentially, "You may want to ease up on the innuendo. I might start to think you're flirting again." He shot her a smile like pure syrup, sticky and delicious, and was vaguely surprised that she didn't start blushing or refute the statement.

Instead she chuckled, her mouth hovering just out of reach from his, and purred, "If I wanted you, I'd have you. I'd eat your soul for breakfast, Red, and then wash it down with a cup of soycaf. Now get me in that room. Violence turns me on, and I can't wait to shoot some people." Feral lowered her heels back to the ground.

With a last bemused glance down at her, Red called up his magic, and wrapped it around them, bowing out the spell so that the bubble of invisibility covered the woman in his personal space as well. "Let's move," he told her, and as one they slipped out of the alcove. Fortunately, the spell was good enough that it also hid them from cameras as well. Anything with 'eyes' would skip right over them. They turned, heading for the security at terminal A, and when they saw a gap, the two of them slipped past the TSA agents on the unmonitored side, going right around the scanning equipment.

Red led the way through security, keeping a tight leash on Feral's hand in order to keep her in the field of his illusion. She had a tendency to run ahead into battle, and becoming visible on camera was something they definitely wanted to avoid. Once they passed through the metal detectors and body scanners, they followed an agent as he went into the employees' only hall. Feral walked solely on the balls of her feet to avoid the clacking noise her heels would make on the uncarpeted hall.

She started taking long, deep breaths, and he knew without asking that she was scenting out the hallway to determine which holding room was occupied. Holding up a finger, Feral paused outside the second doorway, then pointed within. 'We need clearance,' she subvocalized.

Down the hallway, the security agent they'd followed was about to disappear around the bend. They turned to face him as one. Feral grabbed the non-lethal pistol out of her jacket holster, took aim, and pegged him just outside of his right shoulder blade. The agent uttered a startled squawk, and crumpled to the ground. They walked down the hallway quickly, scooping him up before anyone else saw.

When it looked like Red was about to pull his usual no-manual-labor stunt, Feral glared, subvocally growled, and stated, 'If you make me haul him by myself, I'm breaking into your place when we get home, and selling your entire wardrobe. Fair warning.'

Red considered that for a long moment, then replied, 'Fair enough.' He hoisted the man up on his back in a fireman's carry.

Feral snagged his clearance card, and waved it over the reader in front of the holding room. The door slid open. Two agents and Dr. Masato glanced at the seemingly empty doorway. One of the agents must have been gifted or possessing of an unusually high resistance. He looked straight at them, gaping, and then shouted, "Holy frag!" That, of course, was when Feral pegged him in the chest with a knockout dart.

Red stepped in the room after Feral, dumping the unconscious agent to the ground as the door slid closed behind them. He dropped the illusion, and was treated to the sight of the remaining agent and Dr. Masato gasping and sputtering in shock.

Feral just rolled her eyes, and shot at the remaining TSA agent. Before he was even done swooning, she turned to the doctor.

'Wait!' Red subvocalized.

Her finger eased off the trigger, and she raised an eyebrow at him.

'Easier to walk him out,' the elf pointed out. 'We take their uniforms and walk him right out of here.'

"Please don't shoot!" Dr. Masato cried, raising his arms up in defense. The man was small, like most Asians, and the hair on the top of his head was too thick to be anything but implants. The sides were still thinning. He hadn't completed the full treatment yet.

"I'm not gonna shoot you," Feral scoffed, lowering the weapon before apparently analyzing the doctor's threat level (nothing) and putting it away entirely. "We're here to help you. Horizon considers you a valuable asset. We're going to escort you out of here." Technically, nothing she'd said was a lie.  
Red allowed himself a moment to admire her ability to twist the truth to suit her needs. No, Feral rarely lied, but she had a way of stringing things together that might as well be a lie.

Masato's assumption that they were from Horizon was clearly her intention. She succeeded as the doctor nearly slumped in relief, sighing out, "Oh, thank god." He sprang up from his seat, and started collecting his things.

"Just out of curiosity," Red wondered, stepping around the guard he'd unceremoniously dumped on the floor, "What did you get pinched for anyway?"

"Wha—what?" the doctor stuttered. "Why, uh, just…just a simple misunderstanding."

Feral shot Red a look, and they shared a secretive smile that said plain as day 'what an idiot.'

Stepping forward, Red smoothly took the doctor's carry-on from his grasp. "Let me get that," he told the other man.

Feral stepped between them, and fended off the doctor's grabby hands. "Ah-ah," she purred, and sank her thumbs and middle fingers into the man's wrists, pressing painfully into the slight space between his arm bones. He cried out, and took the hint, ceasing his movements.

Unzipping the bag, Red took a look inside, and then shot an incredulous look at the doctor. "I'm impressed. I have no idea how you got this past security in Minneapolis."

"Ooh, what is it?" Feral asked eagerly.

"It's expired medication. Mostly pain pills. They'll turn a nice profit on the street, won't they?" Red asked the doctor rhetorically.

The man's jaw worked, but no sound emerged from Masato's throat.

Red zipped the bag up again, and tossed it casually on the table. "No concern of ours," he shrugged, and turned an ingratiating smile to Masato. In the same breath, he ordered Feral, "Change."

"What?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder.

"Just pull the uniform on over what you're wearing. Don't be difficult," Red sighed. When she moved away with a slight shrug to comply, efficiently stripping the guard closest to her size of his clothing, Red took her place by the doctor, murmuring, "Face the wall." When the doctor hesitated, he offered a slight shove as a prompt. Behind him, he could hear Feral struggling with the clothes. Finally, she tossed her jacket on the table.

"Shove that in his bag," she stated. More shuffling noises ensued, and at one point she actually growled. 'I hope you're happy. Not only am I wearing lingerie and four inch heels, but now I'm also wearing a double layer of clothes in blistering fucking LA heat.'

'Um, guys?' Ghost's voice began. 'Everything okay?'

Meanwhile, Rip chimed in with, 'Damn, you guys are into some kinky shit.'

Red shot Feral an exasperated look over his shoulder, and got an eyeful of the curve of her derriere outlined in black panties and her bare upper thighs accented with the stripe of the garters. She was rolling up her skirt, yanking the security agent's pants up over them. He quickly looked away. She'd gotten one up on him, and wasn't even aware of it. He added it to the list of reasons why Feral was a pain in the ass to work with. _Don't think about asses,_ he told himself.

A moment later she'd jammed the bright blue shirt in her pants, and tapped him on the shoulder.

"You're go," she said, and grinned lasciviously. "My turn to protect your modesty."

"Thank you kindly, though I doubt Dr. Masato would be much interested in my charms," Red told her, his voice laden with sarcasm.

She glanced from him to the doctor, and smirked. Whatever she'd seen was apparently enough for her to say, "I wouldn't be too sure about that." Her wink was flirtatious, and she clapped the doctor on the shoulder. "It's okay, I know he's pretty. No shame in admiring."

Red had a little more trouble finding a uniform seeing how even the tallest of the security agents was only six feet tall. No matter what the pants would be short on him. _Oh well,_ he sighed to himself, even though a corner of his soul was disgusted by the idea that not only would he have to wear a TSA uniform, but he'd also have to wear one that didn't fit right. Placing his own jacket with Teva's, he got dressed as quickly as possible.

"Shall we?" he asked Feral as he shoved their jackets in the doctor's bag.

"We shall," she agreed, and made a show of waving the doctor out of the room.

The three of them walked right out of security.

The only person to question them was another agent, and Red cut in smoothly saying, "It was just a misunderstanding," when asked about the reason they'd nailed the doctor in the first place. "We've cleared it all up." He smiled his most charming grin.

"We're just going to escort him through so there aren't any more hold-ups," Feral followed up.  
That's just what they did…and then they kept going right out to the parking lot. Nobody noticed that Red's pants were too short, or that Feral was wearing four inch heels with her uniform. It was pretty much the luckiest thing that had happened to them all day.

* * *

**TBC…**


	6. Chapter 6

Murphy's Law

Chapter 6

* * *

Fandom: Shadowrun

Pairings: Mostly Gen with a dash of Feral/Red for your angsty delights, oh, and some brief Feral/Ghost

Rating: R

Warnings: violence, gore, mentions of cannibalism, homosexuality, rape, attempted rape, insanity

Archive: Ask

Author: Alex Kade and Lily Zen

* * *

Notes: If you're reading this, we'd like to say thanks for taking the time to do so.

Disclaimer: Shadowrun belongs to Shadowrun peoples. Original characters belong to us.

* * *

It wasn't too much longer before they reached the safe house, and neither of them were anywhere near their finest as they stiffly got out of the car, their energy drained from pain, blood loss, and the crash that generally came following a massive adrenaline rush.

Switch almost didn't think about it as he way-too-easily bypassed the code to get into the old, boarded up storefront.

_Huh,_ he idly thought as he pushed open the door, _should probably fix that._

He stopped inside and groaned, gazing up the flight of stairs leading to the apartment that would be housing the two doctors.

"Do we really have to go up there?" he asked as Madden stepped in behind him.

The troll looked around at the dust and debris littering the entire bottom floor. Upon first entry, no one would suspect that behind those boarded windows upstairs was hidden a decently cozy - and clean - living space. Though the thought of having to climb those stairs with his throbbing leg didn't sit well with him much better than it did with Switch.

"Too dirty down here," he said, more to convince himself, really, than for the hacker's sake. "We don't want to risk infection."

"Don't they have an elevator?" Switch whined as he fell into step behind the troll.

Both of them decided stairs were very, very bad by the time they managed to gimp their way to the top, Madden hindered horribly by his leg, and Switch feeling each step pull at the sensitive area above his hip, in particular. The sight of the full sized, brightly lit living space on the second floor, however, almost made the trip worth it.

"I have an idea," Switch said, in a perky manner that belied the pain he was in. "Let's put the doctors in the dingy motel, and we can stay here."

Madden chuckled and shook his head, limping over to set his first aid bag on the kitchen table. "I doubt Red would approve."

Switch's head snapped up at the mention of Red's name. "Oh no, I totally forgot." He pulled up the tracking screen again and sighed in relief as he saw the doctor moving out of the airport. Cringing, he made a call in to Feral. "I'msorrymyfiveminutestookalotl onger," he spilled out.

The troll snorted out a laugh and began running the hot water from the tab, thinking maybe he should let the kid explain to Teva that she was going to have to be the one to help haul all the supplies up from the trunk. By the way the tech was holding himself, he wouldn't be carrying anything remotely heavy any time soon, not without a healing touch. She'd probably notice, and maybe not maim him for it. Much.

* * *

They were herding Dr. Masato into the limo, which was a lot harder than it looked like it was going to be at first. He was resistant, saying things like they ought to contact Horizon and inform them of the delay. Feral finally slipped her arms around his neck, and just choked the guy out a foot away from the trunk of the limo. That was, of course, when her comm went off, and she answered cheerfully enough despite the strain in her voice from holding a struggling grown man still. "What? Whatever, Switch. Just—ugh—" The guy kicked out, trying to get away from her, break her hold, anything. She readjusted, and tightened her hold. "—just lemme finish this."

His struggles began to slow, and finally, Masato dropped into unconsciousness.

Red politely opened the back door to the limo, and Ghost helpfully emerged to assist in hauling Masato inside the darkened confines. He actually told Feral to let go, which made her shoot a shocked look in his direction that immediately turned to stubbornness. It ended up being an awkward affair, the two of them trying to work together to shove the man in while Red watched from the sidelines, coolly amused.

She smirked at Red when the task was finished. "Have fun with your surgical procedure." Then Feral slid in the front passenger seat, waiting for Ghost to pop into the driver's position.

"So, yeah, you guys okay? And don't worry about the docs, we got 'em. Just need you to scramble those RFIDs for us, and we can go," she said to Switch. Feral started unbuttoning the TSA uniform, shoving the shirt down by the floorboard as she spoke.

* * *

"Sit," Madden ordered just as Switch was about to reply.

"What? No, you go first. You're bleeding more than me." At Madden's impatient look, Switch turned his attention back to the comm. "Hold on, Feral." He put her on hold and shook his head at the troll. "They're on their way to the rendezvous right now. You need to go pick everybody up. That means you need your leg to not be bleeding all over the place. All I have to do is sit here and make my brain do all the work. I'll be fine."

Madden arched his eyebrows. "Sit," he ordered again, and this time it _really _didn't look like an option.

Switch sighed and gimped over to the table, holding his breath as he lowered himself into the chair. As soon as he was down, Madden scooted the chair out further so he'd have room to get all the way around it, and set about unzipping the hoodie.

"Hey! I can do that myself," Will protested. He turned the comm back on as Madden stepped back, waiting for the tech to remove the clothing that was hiding his injuries. "Sorry, yeah, we ran into some- Ow!" He froze in place, the pain in his shoulder flaring up horribly as he tried to work his right arm out of the sleeve. Slowly, he brought the arm back down and looked up at Madden. "Fine, you were right. I need help." The troll moved around behind him without saying a word and eased the hoodie down Switch's back. They both realized that the process of pulling the t-shirt and armor over his head was going to be a more difficult process. "Hey, Feral, I need to let you go, but we're fine...ish...and I'll start that signal jam as soon as I hang up, okay? I'll explain later."

He hung up and immediately worked his way a little further into the tracking system.

* * *

Feral was disconnected with Will rather abruptly, and she poked her head in the back to say, "Madden and Switch ran into some trouble." Will was probably about to cry like a girl, hence why he'd cut off the call. Poor kid. He just couldn't catch a break. "He said he'll start working on the signal jam now though."  
Ghost drove them out of the parking structure.

Feral started digging in her layers for her cigarettes, only to hear Rip say, "If you're going to smoke, roll up the partition. This is a sterile zone." Without a word in response, she found the front switch, sending the black glass sliding up. In the same breath, she rolled her window down.

The only thing Ghost had to say about any of this was, "So…lingerie?"

She flipped him off, and noticed as he tried to hide a smirk.

* * *

"We should cut these off," Madden said after a second.

Switch shook his head. "The armor's part of my PAN. If I don't have it, we aren't getting into Horizon. And you're not cutting apart my Speed League shirt. I had to save up two thousand points from Cocoa Hubs cereal to get this thing."

"The sleeve's already ruined," Madden argued.

"I can fix it," Switch argued back. "Just pull off the armor and t-shirt at the same time." Madden nodded and reached down to grip the bottom edges of both shirts. "Wait, hold on," Switch ordered. He finished what he needed to do to jam the signal, put a timer on the program, and took off his glasses and headphones so the clothing would snag on them. "Where do want me to put my arms?"

The troll shook his head. "I don't want you helping at all. Let me do the work."

Switch wound up having to bite his tongue to keep from crying like a princess (_dammit, Feral_) as Madden had to maneuver his arms to get the clothing off. The troll frowned at the dark bruising spanning across the hacker's back, and wondered if maybe there wasn't some small impact fracturing on the shoulder blade. The two angling along his rib cage on either side of his spine were bad, but upon applying some gentle pressure (much to Switch's protest), he didn't think the tech had suffered any cracks. That was good - bruised ribs were enough of a pain in the ass on their own. The one down low on his side was a deeper color than the troll was really comfortable with, but it wasn't in a place where any vital organs would be bleeding internally. It'd definitely be sore enough to give the tech some difficulty moving around, though.

And then there was the gunshot graze that Switch had failed to mention on the already injured arm. Madden hadn't seen it until then, the actual wound hidden by the torn cloth and blood from the damage the blade had caused. He gave the kid an annoyed look as he began to clean the gashes, to which Switch just shrugged apologetically - or, tried to. He stopped as the action irritated his shoulder.

"I'm...just going to..." he looked down to where the glasses and headphones were laying on the floor where they had fallen off his lap in the process of getting the shirts off. Madden picked them up and shoved them onto the hacker's head, letting him do his thing. That was better, it'd keep the kid busy while he finished doing what he could to patch him up, then he'd do a quick clean and wrap on his own leg before heading out. Red or Rip could do the patch on _him_ at the rendezvous.

* * *

Red turned his head away from what Rip was doing. Not that he was squeamish or anything as trivial as that; he just didn't want to see the size of the chips being pulled out, or have the first person view of the process he'd get to experience, himself, once this Run was done and over with. Though seeing the quick, yet delicate, way that Rip was going about the procedure, he made a mental note to have her do the chip extraction when the time came. She had an intricate process of sending her magic into the wound even as she was cutting it open, healing while she was damaging, and he couldn't help but appreciate that level of compassion. It was much preferable to come out of an operation relatively pain free, without the need of medication, than experience the "normal" process the hospital surgeons liked to put their poor patients through.

Red shuddered at the thought, wondering how people could live without magic.

"Here, stab that in," Rip said, shoving the syringe in his face. She pulled her shirt over her head and turned her back to him.

"Where?" he asked, knowing his role in the situation and accepting it without argument.

She reached her right arm around and pressed her finger against a point on her shoulder blade. "Just slip the needle under the skin at an angle. If you stick that thing in my scapula I'll ram it so far into your ass that it'll take a drill to get that chip back out."

The almost giddy way she said it made the threat that much more believable. Nodding, he very, _very_carefully inserted the chip.

"Thank you," she said with a sweet smile. "Now..." She took off the catheter, sterilized the syringe base, and screwed the new needle on, pulling the chip up into it. "Drop 'em."

"You don't have to be so crass about it," he murmured as he unbuckled his belt and began to turn in his seat.

She snorted. "Your's isn't the first ass I've seen in my line of work." As he was careful to pull down only as much as was necessary on his right side, she rolled her eyes at his attempts to protect his dignity. Shaking her head, she leaned over and applied the local anesthetic, then after waiting a little bit, gently inserted his chip. A brush with her fingertips put a little magic into the tiny hole, sealing it up like nothing happened. She followed that with a light little slap on his other cheek. "It's definitely not the worst I've seen, either."

"Hey!" he squeaked.

_Squeaked?_

He didn't _squeak_. Sighing, he casually slipped his pants back up to his waist and sat back down, offering her a small nod of gratitude...and a slight smirk. She simply arched her eyebrows up at him, her face already sporting her normal mask of indifference, and set to work sterilizing and putting away her supplies.

Red leaned back and stared out the window. Rip was definitely a hard one to read.

_Women._

* * *

Switch was pouting.

Madden had just left him alone a couple minutes ago to meet with the others, having barely even cleaned and disinfected his leg wound before pretty much just slapping some tape on it and calling it good.

"Stay," he had ordered very firmly before heading out the door.

So there Will sat, in his chair that the troll was nice enough to push back against the table so he could at least lean on something if he felt like it, his left arm stitched and bandaged and still stinging like wildfire, and his whole torso pretty much wrapped up like a mummy's. Madden had brought the tape all the way up from his hip to just under his armpits, and then wrapped it around his shoulder several more times than was probably necessary. _Then_, to make matters worse, he strapped Will's right arm to his chest so he couldn't "move it around and cause more damage."

It was a bruise. What more damage could he possibly cause to a bruise?

Granted, all the excessive medical care _did_kind of make him feel better.

Sighing, he busied himself by upgrading the security of the building, and making sure he checked the routes of any surveillance drones that might be passing by. He didn't think there would be any, though, considering those gangers obviously hadn't feared being seen mugging innocent people.

"Heh, innocent. Boy, were _they _wrong," he smirked. "No one messes with The Liberator!"

Speaking of, he hesitated a moment as he debated whether to try jumping into Sterling's system without the suit. He could do it, but having his full mesh network online would make things a lot easier than going without. It would almost feel like he was partially blind going into a full VR hack without feeling his sim work on his arms and torso. Of course, he _could_always free his poor, captive arm and put the PAN shirt back on...

"_In case you were thinking about it, I said stay,_" a message popped up in his vision.

"Geezus!" Will blurted out, jumping in his seat slightly and hissing at the jolt it sent through his back.

He mentally added "psychic" to the list of super powers he had equated to Madden in his head, and stayed exactly where he was.

The ride, thankfully, was uneventful. Feral played with the stereo, flipping through stations until she found an alternative station that included some of the music she liked. "…flay the flesh from the bone, and suck the marrow out," she sang to herself, bobbing her head to the beat with a little smile. Cannibal Kings were hilarious, and their shows never failed to amaze. Ghost discreetly turned his smile away toward the window as Feral's volume increased. "Drink it down to the last drop, the bitter mead from the golden cup; it runneth over; a river forms straight to the bowels of hell!" She pounded on the dash, mimicking the drums. With her cigarette hanging out of her mouth, she looked a little ridiculous, but Feral found she didn't much give a shit. The song was good. It deserved some dash-pounding.

When they pulled up at the rendezvous site, Feral puffed, "Thank the PTB," and leaped out of the car, snagging the TSA shirt for 'evidence elimination.' (That meant 'fire.' She was going to set it on fire.)

When Madden pulled up at the rendezvous, Feral immediately perked up from where she'd been leaning against the hood of the limo, still in her ugly-ass TSA pants, and ridiculous shoes. She flicked her butt to the ground, eyes narrowing as she took in the remodeling job that had been done on the getaway car. "What…the fuck?" she muttered, straightening, and immediately beginning to pace over there though the car wasn't even fully stopped yet.

Boldly, Feral slapped her hands down on the hood just as Madden braked, and barked, "What the hell happened here?"

A second later the troll maneuvered himself out of the car, and her focus zeroed in on his leg. "Oh, Jesus H. Christ on a bike with wings! I missed all the good stuff!" She hit the car, yelled wordlessly, and then pushed herself off of it, stalking up to Madden. "What happened?" she growled, getting all up in his face as much as a woman who's an entire foot shorter than him can.

"Gangers," Madden supplied, "They wanted us to pay a toll to pass through their turf." He shrugged, and maybe it was her imagination but he looked a little sheepish.

"And you thought to yourself 'nah, I'll just take 'em on all by myself, me and the hacker'?" Feral replied incredulously as behind them, Red stepped out of the limo.

"The hacker turned out to be an invaluable asset," Madden defended his actions.

Slender hands bunched the fabric of his jacket, and she shook him fiercely, glaring up at him. "Did you get my hacker injured?!" What she meant was 'you stupid asshole, you could've been killed; is everybody okay?'

Fortunately, Madden understood the way that Teva expressed her concern, and addressed the subtext of the question rather than what she'd immediately stated. Red strolled up behind her, hands in his pockets, as Madden told her, "We are fine. All injuries incurred were non-lethal. Switch is merely bruised."

She seemed to calm a little at that, and dropped the fabric in her hands, backing up a step.

"Everything okay?" Red asked coolly.

Like with Teva, Madden had a way of reading Red. He was a man of tumult beneath the surface, and years of working together, forging a friendship, had allowed him glimpses into that. So as Red spoke in his cool, reserved voice, Madden caught the thread of worry underneath it. Shrugging his massive shoulders, he said to the shaman, "Nothing we couldn't handle, though I could use a bit of healing. Switch is bruised, but you won't be able to make it to him."

Feral shrugged. "I can help with that," she said.

Both men glanced at her, surprised by this news.

She shrugged again, this time defensively. "I got tricks up my sleeve you don't know about. Tch." Turning, the adept quickly walked away, leaving the elf and troll to speak amongst themselves, knocking on Ghost's window.

He rolled it down with a courteous, "Yes?"

"You wanna help me move the deadweight? The troll's injured." She nodded to where Madden now had his leg propped up on the bumper of the blue sedan, Red examining the wound.

"Sure," Ghost smirked, "So long as you're not going to be a pain like you were earlier."

Feral rolled her eyes. "You take the woman. I'll take the dude. He's smaller." She didn't wait for his reply, just went to the back door.

It was popped open before she got there by Rip, who looked at her curiously. "Status?"

"Madden's injured, Red's healing him—not that he'd help with the body-hauling anyway-Switch is apparently banged up back at the safe house, and Ghost's going to help me move these two. Now back up," Feral declared, "So I can haul out the man."

With a succinct nod, Rip retreated from the door, and Feral leaned in, grabbing hold of Masato's ankles and tugging him across the bench. She bit her lip, putting as much muscle in it as she could, taking careful steps back as his legs were dragged out inch by inch. When he was as far as he could go without sliding out all the way and face-planting on the road, Feral stepped up, a foot on either side of his body, got her arms under his armpits, and heaved up. She hit his head on the edge of the car with a quick thud. "Shit."

While Feral was working on moving Masato, Ghost opened up the other door, smothered a chuckle as she beaned the guy in the head, and climbed in for Barnes. Rip helped him get her out the door, and once he was able to stretch to his full height, he picked up the doctor damsel-style and carried her to the car.

Feral just snorted, and started dragging Masato by his armpits, walking backwards. His expensive leather shoes dragged across the pavement.

Ghost set Doctor Barnes in the back seat gently; Feral threw her burden in there half on top of the female doctor, jamming his legs in until she could shut the door.

"There," she said cheerily, dusting her hands off. "That went well."

_Everybody_ began laughing at that.

With a look of consternation on her face, Feral stated, "Look, can we go already? Your RFIDs are going to come on any time now, and you should be away from this area when they do." She put her hands on her hips, then when Red glanced one more time at Madden's healed wound and nodded, agreeing with her, Feral went back to the limo, yanking her jacket out of Masato's carry-on case, and the comms from the cup-holder that Rip had set them in.

"See you tomorrow, guys," she waved flippantly over her shoulder at Ghost, Rip, and Red, and slid into the front seat of the busted up sedan.

"Good luck," Madden intoned, before he followed her example.

They parted ways there, the trio in the limo headed for the hotel, and Madden and Feral turned to go deeper into the ghetto.

* * *

"This sucks," Switch sighed.

He had spent the last couple minutes trying to get more comfortable in the chair he was psychically chained to, but he couldn't quite seem to find a position that didn't hurt. Leaning back in the chair was definitely out - feeling the wood press against his bruises was _not _an option. He wanted to fold his arms on the table and lean his head down on them, but one arm was pinned up and when he tried with the other it pulled at his stitches. His side was starting to irritate him with holding the slight slouch he'd been maintaining thus far. His only other option was to just scoot the chair back enough to let his forehead rest on the edge of the table, keeping him from smashing his face into the vinyl top.

His view narrowed down to the confines of his lap, so he reached down into his pocket and pulled out his one little drone. Doing a quick scan with his glasses, he smiled slightly as he confirmed that the toy could, in fact, be repaired. The laser mechanism was still fully intact, as were most of the control wires. Mostly it was just the mobility function that had been damaged.

"I'll make sure you get some awesome new wheels," he muttered to Clint. "Maybe I can mount you to a hover toy. It'd be just like your skycycle." He thought about that for a second. "That'd be really cool... Hawkeye's kind of the lone wolf type, anyway. You'll be fine out there."

A blip came up in his vision that someone was accessing the code box downstairs, and half a second later he got a feed that it was Madden and Feral. The system didn't lock them out, as he designed it to do should anyone but one of their teammates try to get in. All was well.

Sighing again, he slipped Clint back into his pocket and made himself sit up straight. He had done some serious butt kicking back there, and he wasn't about to sully his real life superhero moment by looking like a little sissy now.

Feral and Madden headed up the staircase. In her arms, she had a flat box stocked with food stuffs, mostly instant noodle cups, and things of that nature. Madden was carrying the water jugs. It was a system that worked out well.

They walked into the apartment, and at first Feral didn't see Switch. She was concerned with getting the food on the counter, and getting the stupid bunched up skirt under pants combo she was rocking straightened out. Heading for the bathroom, she shot a casually voiced, "Hey, Switch," over her shoulder.

Will had opened his mouth to greet the two as they walked in, but Feral pretty much flew right past him with barely a "hello." And then Madden looked oddly skittish as he dropped some things and sort of...fled back down the stairs.

"Um...can I get out of the chair, now?" he asked to thin air.

Once she'd fixed herself-after all, a comfortable skirt was infinitely better than an uncomfortable one-she headed out toward the living room...

Switch smiled and again tried to say hi, ready to tell her all about his adventures of Switch in action...

...Whereupon the adept stopped in her tracks, took one look at Will taped up from waist to shoulders, and growled. She turned in a tight circle, looking for Madden so that she could verbally flay his skin from his bones-that lying sack of meat, this was _not_ the look of a 'bruised' man!-only to discover that the troll had obviously escaped the apartment once more, probably under the guise of gathering up the doctors. "Madden!" Feral shouted, stomping a heeled foot impetuously. That actually felt kind of good, so she did it a few more times for good measure, then she started pacing, pointing at Switch as she ranted. "I leave you alone for, what? an hour? two?, and you get yourself all injured and shit! What the hell is that? Not only that, but you also got to be in the fight! _I_ wanted to be in the fight! Why am I missing all the good stuff lately?" Tossing her arms up, Teva implored the heavens, "Why are you doing this to me?!"

Apparently she was still in predator mode, and this time she _was_ aiming it at him. _Who's the sissy, now? _he thought, hoping Madden's psychic powers were picking up the mental daggers he was throwing at the troll's brain.

"Does it make it better if I say the other guys started it?" he asking, already cringing at what her response might be.

Sighing, Teva ran a hand through her hair, thoroughly messing it up, and flopped down on the floor. "Yeah, I guess," she pouted.

"So what happened?" the adept asked in a sulky voice. "Madden was being all Mr. Understatement, so now I don't trust anything he told me."

"That is not fair," the troll stated as he swung back in the apartment, and placed Doctor Barnes in the bedroom. When he reemerged, Madden shot her a grin. "I just know about your penchant for explosive reactions, and I thought here would be a better place for that than on the side of the road when we're already in a time crunch."

Feral clucked her tongue, lit a cigarette, and said insultingly, "Your face is a time crunch."

Gaze following the exchange, Switch observed their friendship in action, so to speak with something like amusement. So it wasn't just him that she was abrupt with. That was reassuring. "Hmmm...I don't know if I can sum up that much awesome," Will said thoughtfully as he considered her earlier question, then grinned. "Yes, I can. We got stopped by this street gang - they had an AV! And they asked for money, but it was for some insane amount, so I was like, 'Pfffftttt, we aren't paying you. Now you better back up before we have to _make _you.'"

Madden rolled his eyes and shook his head, but stayed quiet. Will caught the look though, and bit his lip for a second.

"Or, okay, so maybe I didn't say that, but I was thinking it. I overheard them talking in Japanese - did you know I speak that? Because I can. That might be good to know. Anyway, they were going to take our stuff whether we paid them or not, so we had to defend ourselves. Madden was all, 'We're not paying you, punks,'" -Will imitated a deep voice for that- "and then this guy completely flipped out and started stabbing holes in the roof of the car with his arm blades. That's where I got this." He rolled his bandaged arm forward so it touched against the fingers of his bound hand, and traced a line down it to show where the first wound was. "And, you know, it hurt, but I played it cool. I jacked into his cyberwear and made him stab through his own arms like - ow!"

He stopped and closed his eyes for a second, having wrenched on the trapped arm in his excitement which, in turn, flared up his shoulder. Blowing out a quick little breath, he shook his head and continued.

"Uh...so yeah, I took him out...and then Madden Hulked out on the closest guy to the car - killed him in like a second! But these two guys were going to shoot him while he was killing this other guy, and I hacked into their smartlinks and messed with their worlds a little bit. Madden did this crazy thing with a knife - it was like a ninja move. Crazy! Should've killed the other guy who I made drop the gun, though...he came back like a minute later with a Warhawk that wasn't linked in..." He shook his head. "I'm ahead of myself. Anyway, so AV guy had cyberlegs so I froze him in place and sent Madden after him, but then Warhawk guy and this freak with a whip thing got in the way. I made cyberlegs kick whip guy in the shin, and then go after Warhawk guy. You should've seen their faces."

He laughed for a second as he spaced out on the mental images. The smile wavered a little bit as he remembered the next part, and though he held the grin in place, the joy in telling his story seemed to drain from his eyes.

"Uh, then, uh, one of the other guys started shooting up the car. I got hit a few times..." He quickly turned to Feral. "But I had my armor on, so it was okay. I was okay...but I messed up with cyberlegs guy. Madden got hit with the Warhawk because-"

"Because a ganger was shooting at me with a Warhawk and I didn't get out of the way in time," the troll said very sternly. "And it probably would have killed me if you hadn't knocked his aim off." He turned to Feral. "I'm going to get Masato. Don't let him guilt trip himself."

Switch smirked and ducked his head a little. Madden didn't blame him. That helped.

"Where was I?" he asked absently. "Oh, the Warhawk guy. I got kinda mad when I saw him shoot Madden, so I went a little crazy with cyberlegs man and chased him off. I don't know what happened to them after that. The guy with the machine pistol started going nuts again, and I had to hide behind the tire. A lucky shot got me here." He traced the bullet graze across the first wound he had pointed out. "I had to send my...I sent the..." Shaking his head, he pulled Clint back out of his pocket, his voice going quieter. "Kamikaze mission, but it didn't even work. That guy was, I don't know, it was like he was invincible. I'm not really sure what happened after that. He was shooting at me one second, and the next there was this huge hole in his chest. I guess Madden hit him with the AV."

Clamping his eyes shut again, he turned away from Feral as he tried to get the image of the guy's face as he was falling to the ground out of his head. The story wasn't exciting anymore.

"You'll have to ask Madden what happened to the whip guy," he mumbled. "I didn't see it. I couldn't really do anything once there was nothing left to jack into, except sit there and hope I didn't get shot...again."

Teva listened carefully to the story, and kept a tally in her head of just how many guys the two of them had gone up against. Her final number wasn't comforting. She glanced away, even more pissed that she'd been trapped at the airport doing a job that oh, any-fucking-body else could have done while her friends were someplace else trying not to get dead. Her thoughts froze. _Wait, Will's my friend?_

Her internal self rolled her eyes...at herself. _Duh, dipshit._

Well, she guessed... The whole kidnap-bonding-experience had kind of sped up the timetable there.

She couldn't let Will know just how worried she was though, thinking frantically about all the what-ifs. That just...no, she wasn't getting all goopy and girly twice in a twenty-four hour period.

Instead she smirked, and gave Will what he seemed to be seeking: approval...and sass, because sassy Feral meant normal Feral. "Sounds like I missed a hell of a party. Good job, though. Seems like you fucked their world up with style."

Heavy stomps up the stairs preceded Madden's arrival once more, but he must have caught the tail end of her words, because he tacked on, "And with cool aplomb." He tromped through the main room, deposited Masato in the bedroom as well, and politely shut the door as he stepped back out. He even went to shut the other door, and then busted open one of the gallons of water, locating a package of disposable cups in the box that Feral had brought up with her. He drank it quickly, then asked her, "So what was this thing you mentioned about being able to help Switch with his injuries?"

"Oh..." Feral suddenly looked sheepishly, casting her gaze almost coyly to the floor. "It's nothing big. I can't heal the way...well, the way a healer can, but I can ease pain through touch. I just figured...well, I'd volunteer since the magic users are out of commission until tomorrow." She glanced up at Madden, and he nodded consideringly.

"How come you never mentioned this before?" the troll asked with a raised brow.

Stiffening defensively, Feral cast a glance at Will, then back to Madden. Her only offered explanation was, "It's kinda...well, touchy-feely. And you _know_ how I feel about touchy-feely stuff." Shifting her gaze back to Will once more, she said, "But I can if you want."

_"Good job." _It was amazing how much better those two little words made him feel about the entire situation. People hardly ever gave him the proper credit for the stuff he was really good at, the numerous times he had saved lives just with the speed of his thoughts inside a program. Not that he normally sought it out - it was difficult to appreciate a battle that couldn't be seen, to understand risk-taking on a level that dealt completely with the possibilities of damaging the mind over the body. He didn't ask to be acknowledged for that because it was an invisible victory...but still, it'd be nice to hear it once in a while.

To be told he'd done well in a combat situation? By Feral? Granted his fighting ability still dealt wholly within the parameters of his tech genius, it was still very different territory than taking on a digital persona. He'd been well outside his comfort zone, under very real physical danger, and he'd managed not only to live, but to really help. To be acknowledged for _that_, by _two _fighters, no less, it mattered to him. He breathed it in like life-saving oxygen.

And then blew it back out in a sigh of relief when Feral offered up some reprieve from the pain.

"I was _really_ hoping you'd ask that," he admitted openly, letting the tough guy appearance drop. Being shot, even _with_ armor, still pretty much sucked.

"'kay," Feral agreed easily enough, and got to her feet, walking the short distance to the table. She cautiously reached out with her hands, putting barely any pressure on Switch as she touched his shoulders, fairly certain from the look of him that the same firm touch she'd used the night before would have him screaming in agony now. She thought for a second. The back of the kitchen chair was going to be in her way.

With a self-conscious glance over her shoulder at her other friend, Teva asked, "Will, can you turn so you're sitting sideways on the chair? If I pull it back a little, I'll have a better angle. Since the duration of contact is kind of essential it would be super awesome if my wrists weren't uncomfortable." She tapped the chair back pointedly.

Madden, apparently sensing that she'd rather not have a captive audience for this, busied himself by putting away the groceries.

It wasn't that she was embarrassed at having the skill. Rather it was an issue of her big, badass co-workers knowing that if she rubbed their backs they'd feel better. It was so _not_a Feral thing to do. Most of the time Teva practically avoided any physical contact but the violent kind. Prior to hugging Will, the last hug she'd been party to had occurred three years ago, and that was after a harrowing 'run; Madden had been the one to give her the hug.

Oh yeah, and there was that super awkward incident with Red last week. She'd just kind of stood there stiffly, so she didn't really count it as hugging. An embrace was kind of a team sport in Feral's opinion. She was a little out of practice at the whole thing, and it made her feel even weirder about it knowing that Madden was in the room.

Will nodded, and rotated himself to the side, sucking in a breath as he moved. His shoulder hurt, but with his arm being held immobile it was tolerable. The bruised muscle down on his side felt tight, though, like it was cramping up, and it was that spot that hurt more as he pushed off with his left leg to make the turn. When he had been sitting in one spot he hadn't noticed it so bad, but now he wondered if he'd be able to put the weight on that side to walk if he needed to.

"Can you start..." He huffed out the breath he'd apparently still been holding as evidenced by the tightness in his voice and tried again, waiting a second for the aggravated muscle to relax a little again. "Can you start at the bottom? If you can- or want to, I mean. I don't really know how it works..."

Unlike in the bathroom the night before, this time he wasn't picking up on Teva's hesitation or discomfort. He was in a different kind of pain, one that pretty much demanded his attention, and in the company of his friend who'd already seen him at his worst, he wasn't feeling so open or vulnerable. At the moment he was just putting himself completely at Feral's mercy, simply trusting that she'd fix him like she did last night.

* * *

Ghost pulled up in the roundabout outside of the Archer Hotel and Suites. He let loose a long whistle as he glanced around. "Damn, guys, ritzy place. I'm a little jealous," he stated, glancing around at the wide, white columns, the tops of which were tastefully illuminated by discreet light tubes, similar to neon, but pale blue in color. The brick work he was parked on was _engraved_, for fuck's sake. Even the_ doors _were grandiose.

Her eyes on the scenery as well, Rip murmured in agreement, "Not a bad way to spend an evening."

Red wordlessly agreed, and slipped out of the vehicle as Ghost came around to open the door. "Don't forget to leave the car at the rental place. Sorry you'll be without wheels."

With a little smirk, the other man stated, "I'm never without wheels." He shrugged, and shot Red a mischievous smile, then reached in to help Rip out. Still playing the part of chauffeur, Ghost opened the trunk, and dug out the bag that Doctor Barnes had arrived with. "Here you are, ma'am." He handed her the bag with a pleasant smile, and stood off to the side patiently.

Raising an eyebrow pointedly, Red tipped his head toward the vehicle in a wordless, 'Get the hell out of here.'

"My tip," Ghost stage-whispered.

"Don't take a bath with a hairdryer," Rip deadpanned, then turned on her heel and headed in the building, wheeling the doctor's bag and carrying her own supplies with her.

Ghost looked unapologetic. "I had to try."

"I'd expect nothing less," Red agreed with a tiny smirk, and walked in the building. He caught up to Rip at the front desk, and they gave their names or rather the names of the people they were impersonating.

When they were asked to show identification, Red cast a quick spell, making the desk clerk with the blonde ponytail high up on her head (and perky tits; hotels were fond of hiring cute people to work their front desk) think she already had. She checked them into their rooms, which were comped by Horizon, and handed over the pass keys. "You're both on the sixth floor," the girl, Amanda, chirped.

"Thank you," Red grinned.

Rip just turned and walked away, and they rode the elevator up in silence. "See you in the morning," she stated, stopping outside of her door.

Red's room was two doors down, and the first thing he did when he walked in the room was to check out the minibar. The next thing was to message Teva. "I need you to bring me some things."

"Busy right now," she snapped. "I'll do it later." She shut off the communication.

"Hm," the elf murmured, and decided he'd amuse himself with exploring the room then running up the room service bill.

* * *

Feral intercepted Red's call just as she was about to get to work. She picked up with a waspish, "Busy right now. I'll do it later." She hung up on him, announcing to the room, "That was Red. He said he needs some stuff. Madden, if you've got time you could always see what our widdle pwima donna wants."

"I'll ask," the troll agreed, and walked into the living room to do just that.

Placing her hands on his lower back, just over his lumbar, Teva closed her eyes, letting herself fall into the almost zen-like mentality that it took her to really _feel _the magic. It was different from reaching for the magic in herself, using it to lengthen her jump or speed herself up that fraction more. That, for some reason, felt like turning things up within herself, like the volume knob in an old car. This was subtler. It took calm and patience until she felt the tides under her skin and his, an absolute stillness of body and mind to bring to the forefront of her notice the invisible movements beneath of chi.

Chi, or at least that was the most commonly used name for it, was a funny thing. It ran through the body, connecting every system, every cell. If the nerves were the messengers of the body, chi was its delivery system. It was also, in Awakened metas, the physical vessel of their magic.

Her hands were still as she reached out, attempting to connect her power with Will's lifeforce without using a physical motion. It was harder for her to visualize it, but when Teva caught the sensation of the currents, she let herself be swept away by them, letting her magic slide along like little water snakes ahead of her fingers. The hip was bad, showing up in her mind as something dark and jagged. She concentrated there for awhile until she felt the sharp edges of agony rounding like stones under the waves.

She had to keep the balance in the flow though, so she moved on, going back to working with the currents instead of against them. Shifting her palms, Teva lightly slid them to the middle of Will's back. "That shoulder's really bad," she commented absently, "Like...really, a lot, a lot. I can't tell you the exact nature of the wound, but I know that it's bad. Maybe a fracture."

He'd let out a long, slow breath as the cramping muscle relaxed even further with Teva's touch. He let himself just go with it, feeling the flow of her magic washing through him, cleaning away the pain and discomfort a little at a time. His mind was wandering to thoughts of massage therapists he'd been to, and how even as professional as they had been, their work was nothing in compared to this.

And then Feral ruined it by sounding all concerned about his shoulder.

He tensed slightly. "A fracture? As in a 'you can't fix it' kind of thing? That's okay. You can make it not hurt, and then we'll just wait, and, and Red or Rip can just fix it tomorrow, right?"

With a feather-light touch, she moved her hands from his mid-back to upper, just barely touching his shoulders. "Sugar," she drawled, her voice sounding a little distracted, "I hate to break this to you, but we won't be seeing Rip and Red tomorrow. We'll be the last ones to arrive on scene."

"I was going to drop off their comms at the hotel," Madden stated as he returned, "along with a list of items they requested early in the morning."

Teva hummed quietly, thoughtfully, while she manipulated the streams. "We'll have to see a doctor."

"Seems like," Madden agreed. "So long as you're sure it's necessary."

"I can take away the pain, not the injury...at least not an injury like that. Small stuff like bruises or whatever, this will speed up the healing time. I can't do anything with something that bad but make it hurt less, but make no mistake, it'll still hurt."

"Nonononono," Will spat out, jumping out of the chair. He leaned awkwardly on his right leg, able to stand a little better thanks to the bit of work Teva had been able to do on his hip, but still not enough to put his full weight on his left.

"I can't, I don't have the money. You _know_ I don't have the money. No, it'll be fine, I'll be fine. Just, just make it not hurt so much, okay? Just enough so I can work my PAN. I won't complain about it, I promise. I won't say a word." He backed up another step, his heart rate picking up at the thought of having to go a NuYou or something. He wouldn't go to one of those freakjobs, not if he could help it.

Startled out of her mojo zone, Feral shifted away automatically as Will jumped up. She raised her eyebrows as he babbled about not complaining, and then turned the look onto Madden, who was wearing his version of the same incredulous stare.

"Switch," the troll began slowly, "If Teva says you need further medical attention, then I trust her to make that assessment. To be frank, I was wondering the same thing; she just confirmed it. I believe your health is more important to the Run than you may think..."

"It_ is_Horizon," Teva butted in. It was the first she'd said out loud even a hint of her worries. For her to acknowledge it in front of witnesses...well, that was kind of a big deal. She just...had a feeling that they were going to need everyone in tip-top condition tomorrow. That included even a non-combatant like Will.

"It is," Madden agreed.

"If it's money you're worried about, I can front you," the adept volunteered.

Will glanced back and forth between the two of them, his breaths coming out sharper and faster. They were ganging up on him.

"No, it won't be enough," he said, shaking his head as he backed up further. "It won't be enough. You're not taking me to a street clinic. I'm not going to, going to have my...organs... Those doctors _do_ things. They do things for money. I'm not having some rich old fucker's mind chip implanted in my brain. They _do_shit like that! I know! I grew up with those corp fuckers. I'm not doing it. I'm not going. Just, just, just make it not hurt. Please, Feral, just make it not hurt. Don't make go to the clinic. Please, don't make me go to the clinic."

His voice had picked up pace as he spoke, and he knew he was on the verge of tears again, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't control this. He'd get down on his knees to beg if he had to, and if that didn't work, he'd fight like a caged animal. Even against his friends, he'd fight.

"Will," Teva spoke very softly, the way one would if they were trying to soothe a frightened animal, "Relax, we're not going to make you go."

Madden raised an eyebrow at her.

She ignored his wordless question. Of course they were going to make him go; don't be a retard. They just needed to get him to calm down long enough that Teva could shoot him with the tranq gun.

Neither Teva nor Madden moved any closer to Will, concerned that he would take their approach as physically threatening. "Don't freak out, okay? There's no reason to freak out. Okay? Take a deep breath." She mimicked what she wanted him to do, inhaling and then exhaling, drawing the process out. When he didn't immediately follow her direction, she prompted him again. "Deep breaths...Hyperventilating is bad."

He backed up another step and tensed further when he hit the kitchen counter behind him. Somewhere on some level of his brain there was probably a register of pain, but at the moment he wasn't feeling it. His hand fumbled up and gripped the counter edge as if he were thinking of pushing himself up on top of it, but there wasn't really a conscious decision to do so on his part. He was more concerned with flicking his vision between Feral, Madden, and the door, wondering if he could get past them.

Wait, Teva was saying something...something about him not having to go.

His eyes settled on her and he tried to focus on the words coming out of her mouth. It took him a minute, but when it finally registered in his head what was going on, he could've cried with relief. It was okay. She wouldn't make him go.

Nodding, he did as she asked and tried to take a calming breath. The first attempt wasn't very successful, but he tried again, trying to match the pattern she was setting up for him with her own deep breaths.

"Okay," he said quietly, not really sure if he was talking to himself or to them. "Okay, I'm okay. Sorry, sorry, I didn't...sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Teva continued in the woman-soothes-wild-horse voice, "Everything's fine. Just...keep...breathing..."

Behind her, she heard Madden following the breathing exercises too.

"Excellent. Everybody's doing so well. You'll be ready for childbirth in no time."

Madden chuckled.

That was, of course, when Teva whipped out her pistol, the special clip of tranq darts still equipped from the earlier visit to the airport, and popped one into Will's uninjured shoulder.

He felt the sting, looked down at the dart, and back up at Feral, no accusation in his eyes...just...confusion.

"Teva?"

He felt his knees buckle, but he blacked out before he felt himself hit the ground.

Being the closer of the two, and faster to boot, Teva got to Will before Madden could, keeping him from hitting the ground. Her friend quickly came to help her, hefting up Will's weight effortlessly. She rolled her eyes at the display, quietly muttering, "Hulk."

"Teva, what the hell?" he asked, pointedly looking down at the unconscious man in his arms.

"_Look_," she snapped, "We have a huge fucking Run tomorrow on one of the Big Ten. We can't afford to have somebody at anything less than their best. There is no time to cater to his neuroses."

The troll gave her a look that was laden was disappointment and guilt-tripping.

"Hey," the adept shrugged defensively, "I'm just doing what I have to do. Besides, he shouldn't be walking around like that." It all came from a place of deep sensitivity and caring, really, it did. Will was one of hers now, and kind of like marriage, it was for better or for worse.

Madden sighed. "I know you're just concerned, but you don't think we could have, I don't know, talked him into going?"

Scoffing, Teva replied scathingly, "Oh yeah, that was going _really _well. Just...haul him down to the car. I'll be there in a sec. I'm just gonna put some water and ration bars in the bedroom, and lock up the docs."

"Alright, alright," Madden sighed, and began walking out of the apartment.

With quick footsteps, Teva hauled a jug of water and a box of food bars into the back room, and locked the door up from the outside. Then she grabbed her jacket, slinging it on over her holsters, and locked up the apartment behind her.

Madden very carefully slid Switch into the back seat, sighing as he shook his head.

"I'm sorry," he murmured with utter sincerity. He adjusted the tech's free arm so it rested comfortably on his stomach, and double checked that the seat belts weren't pressing into his back before he realized there was no more mother henning he could do. He'd carry his own share of guilt for being involved in this one, but Teva was right, they needed their hacker to be fully functional for the Run. They would make it up to the kid later...if Switch would let them.

Meeting her friends at the car, Teva's step was notably absent of bounce. She wasn't particularly happy with herself for being all...manhandley about the situation. Then again, she couldn't really see any way around it.

If she was freaking out that badly on an airplane, she'd hope her friends would be nice enough to knock her out too. "Hey," she said as she slid in the front seat of their battered, stolen piece of shit car. "Let's find a Doc Wagon or something. I'll pay."

Teva pulled on her seat belt, clicked it into place, and settled in the bucket seat with her arms crossed over her abdomen protectively.

Madden grinned as he pulled up locations for the nearest Dog Wagons on his commlink.

"I'll pitch in," he offered.

It wouldn't be a high class medical facility, but it'd be clean, and there'd be records of any procedures done. They could prove to Switch that Teva kept to her word, that she didn't take him to some random street clinic. Hopefully that would be enough to keep the strange partnership those two seemed to have going for them intact. The team would need the dynamics to hold together to get through Horizon just as much as they needed each of its members to be healthy.

* * *

**TBC…**


	7. Chapter 7

Murphy's Law

Chapter 7

* * *

Fandom: Shadowrun

Pairings: Mostly Gen with a dash of Feral/Red for your angsty delights, oh, and some brief Feral/Ghost

Rating: R

Warnings: violence, gore, mentions of cannibalism, homosexuality, rape, attempted rape, insanity

Archive: Ask

Author: Alex Kade and Lily Zen

* * *

Disclaimer: Shadowrun belongs to Shadowrun peoples. Original characters belong to us.

* * *

After they'd seen to Will's injury, and taken him back to the motel, Teva was hit with a sudden illumination. She got the list of items that Red and Rip had requested, and while Madden was out ditching the shot up car, she also had him steal another one for them. This she took with her to the downtown hotel, and met Red up in his room.

He opened the door with what she liked to think of as the typical porn-star pose, leaning in the doorway, his shirt half unbuttoned, hair mussed. "About time," he grumbled, and let her in.

Glancing heavenward in annoyance, Feral flopped on the cushy king size bed, and sighed. "Mm, now that's comfy."

Red only spared her a cursory glance. He was busy digging in the bag she'd packed for his things, pulling out his shower kit right away. "I have dinner coming soon. Let them in, will you?"

"Of course." She smiled, and thought the timing was too perfect. Calling down to the kitchen, Teva brought up the menu and started tacking items on as soon as Red stepped in the shower. "Yes, I need two eight ounce filet mignons done medium-well, two of those lovely lobster tails, a plate of garlic mashed potatoes-no, you heard right, a plate; however many orders that equals-the fresh fruit and cottage cheese salad platter, a porterhouse cooked medium-rare. I'd also like two bottles of wine-not the synthahol. Let's see, the '69 petit sirah sounds good, and, um, the '71 pinot grigio. Oh, and for dessert...three chocolate lava cakes. And boxes. Can you package that all up in boxes? Yes, I'm stocking up for the next few days. Wonderful. See you then."

Thirty minutes later Red finally emerged from the bathroom, a much cleaner, and therefore happier Red. He observed Feral curiously for a moment, sprawled out on her stomach on his bed, eyes glued to the cartoons on the trid. She had her chin pillowed on her arms, and looked kind of...

Then she glanced up, grinned wickedly, and said, "Horizon is going to weep when they see the bill I just racked up."

"What?" He rubbed the spot above his eyebrow that he was prone to when he was irritated. "Feral, we're lying low."

"Suck my balls," she shot back, "Like you aren't going to pig out on the good stuff while you can." The look Teva gave him was decidedly disgusted.

Unable to deny it, Red fumed silently, which was an interesting sight considering the only thing he was wearing was the towel wrapped around his hips. Nearly naked, fuming man was entertaining. And a redhead to boot.

Teva chuckled to herself.

Just then room service called out. She bounded to the door, almost tripping over her high heels in her excitement. "Hello," she smiled at the kid with the service cart, "I'll take that." She wheeled it in the room, letting the door swing closed in the boy's surprised face. "Now, the hard part: packing it all up." It took a whole fifteen minutes, during which time Red grabbed his pajamas, disappeared in the bathroom to change, and reemerged. When he came back, she was gone. All that was left on the cart was his original order: one untouched silver dome amidst the carnage of overturned covers, empty plates, and discarded garnishes. The little bitch had also lit the candlestick.

* * *

Will woke up slowly - not in a groggy way, just in a nice, leisurely way like he had a tendency to do on Saturday mornings when he remembered to turn off Captain Victorio. Taking in a deep breath, he stretched his arms over his head and-

_Arms?_

The memories slammed back into him full-force, all the way up to the moment when Feral shot him with a dart.

"Geezus," he blew out in a panicked breath, frantically lifting up his shirt to look for surgery incisions that shouldn't be there...but they probably _wouldn't_ be there because a magic user could just seal up a hole like nothing happened. He could be missing any number of important things on the inside and wouldn't even know it...or worse, there might be something _extra _in there, just waiting for its turn to surface like a ticking time bomb.

His hands were caught from their spastic fumbling, held in Madden's grip who was suddenly sitting on the bed beside him. "Hey, kid, hey. Relax. You're okay."

"No, I'm not, I'm _not _okay. I'm not-"

"Yes, you are," Madden interrupted, keeping Switch's – _Will; Teva had called him Will_ - arms gripped firmly, but gently, in his large hands. "Listen to me. We didn't take you to a street clinic, Will, do you understand me? We _didn't _take you to a street clinic."

Will looked at him, searching for the lie, but he couldn't see it. He stopped trying to struggle, after which Madden released the hold he had on his wrists. "Well...where'd you take me then?"

"We had the Doc Wagon fix you up. I have the record if you want it."

Closing his eyes, Will blew out a sigh of relief. It wasn't his first choice, but he'd used the Wagon services before. He'd never heard of an incident where a Wagon surgeon went rogue. Releasing his apprehension, he let himself fall back against the headboard heavily, appreciative that there was no sign of the pain he'd felt before. "Didn't have to tranq me," he mumbled.

Madden shrugged one shoulder and gave him a very apologetic look. "You were panicking. We just didn't want to see you hurt yourself." He chose his words carefully, making sure he tried to keep the blame from falling squarely on Teva's shoulders.

"I was calming down," Switch shot back. "Whatever. It's done. I need to...I need to get started on my job, right? I've still gotta get you guys into Sterling and get the comms set up-"

"I fixed this for you." Madden interrupted, stopping Switch's annoyed tirade. He reached over to grab something off Feral's bed and tossed it to Will, who caught it clumsily. "Took a little bit to wash the blood out, but the cuts were clean. It should still work, shouldn't it?"

Will inspected the tiny stitchwork in the sleeve of his armored shirt and nodded. "Yeah, it...it's great, actually." He looked up at the troll and offered a tentative smile. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. Now," Madden slapped Switch's knee in a friendly manner and stood up. "I have some things to take care of. The comms are over there on the table, and Teva should be back soon from the hotel. Call me if you need anything."

"Okay," Will said quietly, and let out a groan as soon as Madden was out of the room. He scooted back down under the blankets and crossed one arm over his eyes.

He amended his earlier thought from back when Feral had tried her healing trick in the apartment. _Now _she'd seen him at his worst...and she'd tranq'd him for it.

He added that to the bottle of things he'd learned about the people the hard way, and sealed it back up. It wasn't something to worry about right now - he had work to do.

But first, he _really_ needed a shower.

Outside in the motel parking lot, Teva wrenched the car in park, but before she even got out she called Madden. "So just how mad is Switch?" she blurted out before he could say anything.

"Pretty fuckin' annoyed. I took some of the blame, but...I'm pretty sure he knows that tranq'ing him wasn't my idea," Madden explained smoothly.

"Yeah," she sighed, "I was kind of worried that was going to be the case. Well, I guess if he starts throwing things at me, I can always sleep in Rip's room. That's empty for the night." Feral comforted herself with that thought, keeping her voice deliberately light and careless. And people said she couldn't lie. She did it all the time, and nobody noticed a goddamn thing. Cutting off Madden's response, the adept swiftly changed subjects. "Well, I brought dinner. Real dinner. 'Too yummy to be believed, so you must see it for yourself' dinner."

With a laugh, Madden replied, "Okay, I get the hint. I'll swing by Switch's room to pick some food up."

"Good," Feral stated, and ended the call. Stepping out of the vehicle, arms laden with the take-out bags that room service had thoughtfully provided, she walked up to the room she was sharing with Switch, hesitated a moment, and then straightened herself, shook off whatever mood was making her so timid.

Admittedly, Will felt a lot better after getting cleaned up and doing a very thorough inspection of his body...just in case. There wasn't even a trace of the bruising from the fight, but they'd left the thin, cross-shaped scar on his arm. He wondered why they didn't just erase it, but found himself almost kind of glad that they hadn't. It was like a badge of honor received in battle.

_Was that Madden's idea, or Feral's?_

Smiling slightly, he pulled his PAN shirt over his head as he left the bathroom, slipped on his gloves and boots, and was just about to put the visor over his eyes when his roomie walked in.

"Hey, Feral," he said casually as he put the visor on, then sat back against the pillows on his bed. "I lost some time, so I'll probably be in VR for the next...well, pretty much up until we have to leave, but I'll get everything done. Don't draw on my face or anything while I'm out, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed laconically, "I brought food if you want some. The good stuff." Holding up her arms, Teva pointedly displayed five bags, all containing to-go boxes, except for the very last one which held two bottles of wine. "Horizon was kind enough to pay."

She was a little surprised that Switch was being so calm about all of this. Okay, more than a little. Madden's words had geared her up for some sort of explosion, but this was...well, it was downright normal.

Just then the troll entered the room, moving toward the small table where Teva was extricating her arms from the bags. "Heard the food cart came in," Madden rumbled, and started poking in the bags.

"I got you a porterhouse," Teva stated with obvious pride that she'd remembered. "There's two lobster tails in there too. Oh, and garlic mashed potatoes, some fruit, cottage cheese, and chocolate lava cakes. The filets are for me 'n Switch, so don't gank those. I know you like your slabs o' cow, but you gotta share. I also got some really good wine."

"Pass on the wine," Madden stated, then crowed in triumph as he found the porterhouse.

"Plebeian taste buds," Teva scoffed. "More for me, I suppose."

Next up on his list was those mashed potatoes, which he located shortly thereafter. That box was the heaviest. He grabbed one of the rolls of silverware, raised his eyebrows at Teva, who shrugged, then stated with a wicked gleam, "Either I'll take 'em home, or I'll pawn 'em off for extra cash."

He played around with the food for awhile longer, setting everything up so that it fit in one box, then asked Switch, "You want one of these lobsters, or can I devour that red-shelled little tummy-teaser?"

Feral laughed, leaning back on her arms, watching Madden with envious eyes. _Dude, get out of the fuckin' way. I am going to eat the blanket if I don't get some food STAT._

"You can have it," Switch answered as he wandered over to see what Feral had brought in, hovering on the outskirts while Madden collected what he wanted.

The troll gave him a huge grin as he added the lobster to his box, then finally moved back so the other two could dive in.

Will took a closer look and his stomach rumbled at the smell, then promptly did a little flip as he remembered what happened _last_time he'd devoured real food. Sighing, he looked at the steaks in forlorn fashion, and instead just picked at the fruit and cottage cheese. He couldn't afford the time it would take for another intimate reunion with the toilet. Once he was meshed in, he needed to stay there until he was done.

He could probably handle one of the cakes though.

Teva waited while everybody else picked at the offerings before her. It wasn't some Old World archaic trait that some cultures still held onto; she wasn't the little woman waiting for the men to eat before her. She was a concerned friend seeing that the people who were injured today, who went into battle, got their fill to replace lost nutrients.

Madden went back to his room with a nod of thanks, which she waved off.

Standing up, she made her way toward the table, sitting down in one of the cheap, uncomfortable chairs, and grabbing one of the filets. Oh, she was going to feast tonight. Into the wine bag her hand crept, pulling out the glasses that had been on the cart, and the waiter's corkscrew she'd also swiped. Since she was starting with the red meat, she thought she ought to start with the red wine as well. Opening the bottle carefully, Teva poured herself a glass. "I really have become spoiled since I met Red," she confessed in a little murmur, watching the liquid in the cup, ordering herself to 'let it breathe,' as Red was fond of saying.

She unrolled the napkin from the silverware bundle, and tucked it neatly on her lap. Her manners were surprisingly good for a little hoodrat, she was aware. There had been a Run or two with Red where he'd been forced to teach her some ladylike deportment. Those were usually ones where she wound up wearing heels. The association between high heels and delicate behavior was ingrained in her, and so as long as she was wearing those stupid shoes, she'd be a lady.

Will was sitting on the edge of the bed, and once he finished his little bit of fruit and cottage cheese, he eyed the cakes again, looked at Feral (_politely?_) eating her steak, and found himself practically drooling at the other one.

Rule #2: Don't give into temptation.

_I always thought that Rule #2 was debatable._

How many superheroes ran off with the girl at the end, after all?

Throwing caution to the wind in favor of the fact that this was probably the last time he'd get a shot at real food like this for a while, he decided just to go for it. Moving in beside Feral, he stocked up on everything else he wanted and also poured himself a glass of the wine. Before he moved back to his spot on the bed though, he shot a sideways glance at his roomie.

"Um, do me a favor? If I start throwing this back up while I'm meshed in, I'm not going to notice, so...if I do..." He made an apologetic face. "Just don't let me choke on it, okay? That would be kind of a sucky way to die."

She waited until she'd finished chewing her bite, then smiled at Switch. "No problem. I'll even hold up the garbage can if it comes to that," Teva told him, then zipped a forkful of mashed potatoes into her mouth. That was...pretty much the best thing ever, she thought as she chewed thoughtfully, and then reached for the wine to cleanse her palate.

It was really too bad she was such a whore for real food. After this meal, it was going to take some effort to eat soy-products in the morning. Why hadn't she ordered breakfast too?

She found it difficult to eat an entire meal sitting still even though she adored the process from beginning to end. Teva fiddled with her comm, bringing up the book that she was reading. If she took her time going back and forth from the pages to reality, she'd avoid getting sick herself. She wouldn't get far splitting her focus like that, but it would be a couple pages she hadn't read before.

As Switch happily ate, trying to go fast so he could get to work, he noticed Feral fiddling with her comm. Curious, because it didn't look like she was making a call (which was pretty much the only thing he'd ever really seen her use the thing for), he bypassed the whole privacy thing to take a peek at what she was doing. Normally he wouldn't do that, but she'd tranq'd him, so he felt a little passive aggressive rule breaking was within his rights. Upon looking, it didn't even matter though. It was just a book.

Bored, he slipped back out of her comm and turned his attention back to his food, but out of the corner of his eye he observed her going back and forth from putting the glasses on and taking them back off. She wouldn't get very far at all doing it that way.

Sighing, he finished his last few bites, set his plate down, and fished his plain black gloves out of his bag. He then walked across the room where the little trid player was set up on a shelf so that it would project its images onto the floor, grabbed it, and set it down on the table in front of Teva in a way that would make it project straight up into the air. He messed with the settings inside its systems for a little bit, then transferred what she was seeing in her PAN into the trid. A 3D image of a book, a very real-looking, hardback book, hovered in the air just above the machine.

"Here," he said, offering her the leather PAN gloves. "Put these on, and you can flip the pages just like the real thing. You don't need your glasses."

He smiled at her, then jumped over onto the bed, slipping into the Matrix before she could yell at him for invading her privacy. There was too much that needed to be done to waste time arguing with her.

Stunned, she grabbed the gloves reflexively, and watched as Will very quickly scrambled into the nets (okay, now she was just doing it out of spite, and he wasn't even really there to annoy with it). Turning back to the trid player projecting her book, Teva examined it. She took off her glasses, folding them up, and setting them on the table, then tugged on Switch's gloves. Cautiously, she flicked the page with her right index finger, then turned it back with another motion. "Cool," she murmured appreciatively. There would be no nausea tonight.

It occurred to her later on as she was reading, and eating, and feeling pretty awesome about her mad multitasking skillz that Will must have hacked her comm in order to know that she was reading. That was pretty irritating. Then again, it wasn't like she was looking at porn or anything. It was just a book. Not even an English book at that. The text was written entirely in Romanian. She'd had to work pretty hard to find a copy on the nets, considering it was Pre-Crash, and foreign to boot. Anyway, nothing embarrassing there, and if it had been literary porn, she highly doubted that Switch would have even recognized it.

Glancing over her shoulder, she fixed the odd hacker with a look, deciding that maybe she'd have to thank him later.

* * *

"Five seconds on the clock," The Liberator communicated to his clone, both of whom were in the last stages of diffusing two different bombs that could wipe out all of Lost City if he - they - failed. Luckily, his sometimes sidekick, Stealthwing, had seen to the robbery that was going down on the other side of the city. That left him and his double to take down the big bads and tend to the bombs.

"Cut the green wire," he instructed, snipping his wire a split second before his twin cut the other one...

Switch sat up and ripped off his visor.

"Done, they're done," he panted as if he'd been running a marathon.

Eight o'clock. He'd met his goal. It took creating an agent inside the Sterling system, and duplicating his own persona to work both med SINs at the same time to do it, but he nailed it. _Without_going Hot.

_Eat that, 'Carn._

Annnnd the mention of eating made the fact that his mouth tasted like puke register in his brain.

"Oh, gross," he muttered.

The need to get the taste off his tongue pretty much squashed any thoughts of catching a quick nap before he and Feral had to get ready. He'd slept through part of the day before, anyway. Sort of. If being unconscious due to a tranq counted as sleeping. It didn't matter; it still meant he'd had at least _some_ rest before having to do the Run. It was enough. He'd functioned on less, after all.

Feral was already dressed for the Run, having followed her instincts and ditched the heels in favor of some wedge-heeled dressy boots. They weren't very high, and offered more of a stable platform than the tiny stilettos. She wasn't sure how important that was, but she'd learned to trust her instincts.

She was eating chocolate cake for breakfast, and drinking piping hot soycaf she'd made in the tiny in-room percolator when Switch threw off his visor panting, announcing mostly it seemed to himself that he was done with the comms and all the work he'd had to do for Sterling last night. Teva didn't know shit about jack when it came to the kind of whiz-kid stuff Switch did when he was emerged in The Matrix, but she guessed it had been a strenuous evening.

And yes, she'd had to hold the garbage can, tilting Will's head forward while he threw up. Seriously, she was starting to question whether or not he had an eating disorder.

She'd managed to keep down all that food just fine, and she might have stolen some of the fruit Will was picking at as well. The rest was in the fridge, breakfast for the kid if he could keep it down. Plus she'd finished off two bottles of wine by herself. What? So she appreciated a good vintage. That did not make her an alcoholic...just a lush.

"Morning," she greeted, holding up her coffee in a 'cheers' sort of effect. "Congrats."

Teva called Madden, knowing he'd need to leave before they did. "Hey, gorgeous, get your ass over here. Switch has the comms ready."

He looked at her for a second after she greeted him and called Madden, then looked down at what he was wearing.

"Shit, I need to change."

He jumped off the bed, grabbed his bag and the inspector suit, and bee-lined it for the bathroom, quickly pulling off all his PAN gear and pretty much tossing it all out the bathroom door.

"Make sure Madden gets all that," he hollered. "Stash Clint in there too. He's on the nightstand."

He shut the door again and caught his reflection in the mirror. He could almost _see_himself vibrating.

_Slow down, Will, you've got time._

God, he was wired. He'd just spent the whole night in "beat the clock" mode, and felt like he was still running on racing time. Hopefully when that adrenaline left his system he wouldn't go into "crash" mode, but right now he definitely felt awake. Taking a single, deep breath, he forced himself to casually reach into the shower and turn the hot water on. As he started humming his dad's song, he stepped in and let the water wash away the stress to the slow rhythm of the soft tune.

When Madden came to pick up the comms, Ghost trailing behind him, having apparently reappeared sometime either late last night or early this morning, Feral pointed wordlessly to Switch's PAN gear and her own neat pile of weapons. "Gotta smuggle that stuff in for us," she said, and after a second's thought, also stated, "And take the little drone on the nightstand too. Switch needs that as well."

"Alright," Madden agreed, strolling over to the table, and pocketing Clint inside of his Sterling Contractors coveralls. "We'll see you at ten."

"At ten," she nodded in agreement.

Ghost shot her a small smile. "See you've decided to ditch the heels."

Grimacing, Feral replied, "Not really my style, though it is hella fun to leave holes in people after you kick them."

With a little laugh and a shake of his head, Ghost said, "Good luck to you both."

"Here's hoping," she raised her soycaf in salute, and gulped it down.

The other two left the room, got in another car that Ghost had apparently procured, and drove off. Feral settled in to wait for Will, turning on the morning cartoons. It was lighthearted and funny, and would take her mind off of the strange feeling that she kept having.

Will turned to and fro as he looked at the fit of the suit in the mirror. It looked good on him, his thin frame actually filling it out nicely, but there was something off-putting about it that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Shrugging it off, he reached down to the bottom of one of the side pouches on his pack and pulled out his glasses case. Settling the spectacles on his face, slipping in the discreet earbuds that were also housed in the case, and clipping on his pocket comm, he stood back up, catching his reflection in the mirror one more time, and realized exactly what the problem was.

Yanking the door open, he stepped out into the bedroom in an agitated manner.

"I _look_ like me," he announced. "Like _real_ me. Will Slate me. Even changing my hair..." His thoughts went through a myriad of colors, his hair changing in time with those thoughts like a fiber optic star on a Christmas tree. "Geezus, I'm so stupid. Why didn't I think of this before? If someone recognizes me, I blow the whole Run. I am blowing the whole Run before we even get started."

Feral raised an eyebrow as she watched Will's hair do its color-changing dance, and thought to herself that maybe she should invest in fiber optic hair too. That was fuckin' cool. Then she actually started paying attention to what he was saying. Glancing off to the side, she wondered if maybe he wasn't right.

"Um, okay, hm..." she started thinking out loud, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't your pops mostly work on the east coast? That's...an entirely different country, peanut. Lots of space between CFS and there. The chances of anyone recognizing you in Horizon seem pretty slim. Especially not if you do something different with your hair."

"If you want," Feral continued, chuckling to herself, "I can give you a black eye. That ought to throw anyone off." She winked at him, letting him know that she was just kidding.

"Yes! That's a great idea!" he said in answer to her teasing question, snapping his fingers. "Wait, no, no, that's a terrible idea. You could hit me too hard and give me a concussion, and _that_ wouldn't help anything." Pacing back and forth a few times, he took several long breaths as he tried to think, and ran his hand through his hair, stopping its kaleidoscope dance on a simple, sandy blond. "You're right, you're right, Damien only worked in UCAS territory, it's a smaller corp...but still, the system could do a facial scan, and then-"

_"Will, I can trick the software."_

Teva started laughing at Will's emphatic agreement, at least until she figured out that he was actually really considering the idea. Then she quieted, watching him with a bemused expression at he appeared to talk to himself.

"What?" he asked out loud.

_"Don't worry about the recognition software. I can Spoof it. It'll only register you as Warren Stromb. That is your ID for this Run, is it not?"_

Will nodded and let out a relieved sigh. _Thank god for technos._

He looked back to Feral and smiled. "Nevermind, I got it figured out. Sorry. I just needed to run it through my head for a minute. It'll be fine. Is there any food left? I'm starving."

Going to the mini fridge before she could answer, he dug out the fruit and cottage cheese and dug in, sure that it was most likely the heavy steak that had made him lose his dinner last night as opposed to the healthy stuff.

Teva settled back a little further in her chair, relieved that the situation had apparently been resolved. "Eat quickly," she prompted gently. "We don't want to run late."

She wasn't nervous about the Run. Feral rarely got nervous when she dedicated herself to a job, seeing the inevitable obstacles simply as challenges to overcome. Improvisation was part and parcel with Running.

No, she wasn't nervous; she was unsettled. Something didn't feel right, and Feral found that she was _anticipating_...something.

Strangely, it had the opposite reaction on her physical cues. She was quieter than usual, frowning thoughtfully, sitting still with her legs crossed, and hands clasped over her knee. Teva sipped her coffee rather than gulped it down, and stared at a blank spot on the wall, her mind quietly going over the plan for the day, putting things in order, trying to discern just what it was that had her on edge.

Will nodded and shoved a piece of melon in his mouth, then walked around the room a little more.

"Do you have my gloves?" he asked around the food, then brought his hand to his mouth and swallowed. "Sorry, I don't usually talk with... My head is in like a million places right now. This is normal, by the way. I always get like this before a Run. There's nodes and spiders and cameras and Sniffers, all sorts of things I have to remember to account for. Not that I ever forget, but I like to keep the tally running just to make sure nothing slides to the back, ya know? Especially this time. Horizon! I mean, these guys are the headrunners for a lot of the tech I use. They've been top notch in Matrix gear since forever. Did you know it was because of them that AI's were classified as sentient beings that have regular citizen rights? I'm going up against the A class of security tech, here. This'll be, like, my crowning moment if I don't get us all killed! What time are we leaving?"

"I put your gloves in the nightstand where Clint was. Thank you for their use," Teva said, then checked the time. "We leave in ten."

She was still eerily composed in comparison to her usual behavior, and waited quietly while Will...did what Wills do.

...which was to stuff the rest of the fruit in his mouth, walk over the top of the bed to the nightstand to retrieve his gloves, fall down onto his back on the mattress, and jack into a short simvid. He'd run himself in circles if he didn't pretend to be someone else for a few.

"Tell me when it's time," he stated as he 'became' Death Knight stalking the Red Leopard through a jungle. He'd catch the villain in a few seconds and they'd wrestle over a machete for a minute before Knight got the upper hand.

He may have played this sim a time or two...

When it was time, Feral got up, and walked over to Switch, nudging him forcefully. She wasn't sure just how much was needed to get his attention when he was immersed in VR. "Let's move," she said, and swapped out her comm for the one that Switch had made. She stepped into her new identity, Ms. Sarah Ellis, CFS building inspector. Feral had requested the use of the first name Sarah. She was so used to people calling her that, it wouldn't sound jarring to her ears at all.

"Aw, man, I was just getting to my superhero narrative monologue," Switch whined as he shut off the sim. "And for the record, it was just a vid, and I wasn't even in there all the way. That means you could've just _said_ it was time to leave. The pushing wasn't really necess- and that doesn't work when I'm all the way in VR, anyway. You could shoot me and I wouldn't notice, which is why you're guard dogging while I'm in there. And please don't shoot me...again. If you need me to jack out, you gotta tell me over the comm. You should probably know this kind of stuff... It's kind of cool that you're guard dogging, by the way. I don't usually have that. That's why I usually have my toys, but now I'm down to Clint and he can't even roll around anymore. I'm just gonna stick him somewhere up high and he can shoot things if he needs to, just like Hawkeye. I'm rambling. I'll stop when we get there, I promise. Or now. I can stop now if you want me to."

"Mmhm...okay..." Feral nodded along with what Switch was saying, walking toward the door, and the car waiting for him. She assumed he'd follow if only because he needed somebody to talk at. His tips were helpful, however. Usually they kept her far away from the techs. She tended to be more of a hindrance than a help with that sort of thing, and her mannerisms made them nervous. Okay, she made people nervous in kind of a general way as well. It was just that the fighters tolerated it better. They tended to all be pretty odd; defensive, prickly, and possessing of a healthy dose of paranoia, not to mention they were all adrenalin junkies. So yes, Switch was right to warn her about the rules.

She slid in the driver's seat, and hit the button that would turn the engine over.

Since Feral hadn't smacked him upside the head yet, Will took that as an invitation to keep babbling on about mostly nothing until they got within a couple blocks of the company. He shut up almost like someone had flipped a switch in his brain, going from awkward, nervous tech geek to professional hacker. Cautiously, he put some small feelers into Horizon's systems through the PAN gear he had on, sniffing out any Spiders controlling the different areas of the building - there were three, making sure every corner of the place was covered. He'd have to blind them before anyone did _anything_outside the norm, and he sent out a quick, encrypted reminder to everyone's comms saying as much.

_"Act like you're supposed to until I give the go ahead. The building's watching."_

On top of going into hacker mode, he also found that maybe looking like Will Slate held an advantage, after all. He felt himself gearing up to be the quiet, polite, professional corporate son that Damien had drilled into him for the press conferences and business meetings he'd so often been forced to attend. That role he was used to playing would probably come in handy with his whole inspector persona he was supposed to be putting on, especially in maintaining that persona while tinkering inside the Matrix. He did it alllll the time at the conferences.

As Feral parked the car, he took one deep breath to prep himself.

_"I'll help where I can,"_ Phantom informed him as a way of checking in. _"As soon as we finish the extraction though, you're on your own. Good luck."_

_'You too,' _Switch answered.

He turned to Feral before she could step out of the car. "Hey, just, I wanted to, uh...if we don't...if something goes wro-" He shook his head. "Thanks for being so nice to me. Mostly." Flashing her a smile, he turned and got out of the vehicle, straightening his tie as he took in the sight of the corp he was about to work his magic on.

_Guess I'm not the only one who feels impending doom_, Feral noted as she got out of the car. She nodded quickly, responding quietly, "No problem. Thanks for not...I don't know, whatever. I know I'm kind of a pain in the ass to work with, so yeah, I guess 'thanks for putting up with me'." Taking a deep breath, she fixed her hair so that it was smooth and professional-looking again, and tugged down her jacket. She approached the building with the confident walk of a woman who knows exactly what she's about, and passed through the front doors, trying to ignore the fact that their system had probably just scanned her for weapons, and _she didn't have any_. The knowledge left her with a strange feeling as though she was walking around naked.

They were stopped at the wide security desk in the spacious lobby. "Sarah Ellis, Public Services and Safety. This is Warren Stromb. We're here to do an impromptu building inspection," she said to the man at the desk in the rent-a-cop uniform.

As "Ms. Ellis" introduced him, Will smiled in that subtle way he had that made people acknowledge him, instantly judge him as both harmless and seemingly unimportant, and move on by. Usually he liked it that way; it kept him from having to do too much small talk or run through basic business yammer with the big wigs that his father often mingled with. That meant he was freer to run rampant in the Matrix, which he was gearing up to do while Feral kept the guard's focus on her.

The guard checked something on his computer system, glanced up at them with dark eyes, and said, "I don't see anything like that in my notes for the day."

Ms. Ellis shot him an exasperated look. "Just what part of 'impromptu' do you not understand? If we scheduled our visits, that would defeat the purpose of them, Mister..." she paused, flicking her eyes down at his name badge. "Freeman." There was the slightest note of scathing critique in her tone; not enough to offend, but definitely enough to make her thoughts known about just how she felt at being made to wait, being questioned by this clueless peon.

The guard seemed to think this over for a minute, then said, "I'll have to call my superior about this. Just...let's scan your IDs while we wait."

Switch kept "Warren's" comm completely open, active, and accessible while the corp system did its SIN scan, but through the clear lenses of his spectacles he was Stealthing his way inside using the Caleb Knox comm that was still tucked in his camo pants somewhere inside the building with Madden, hidden from the scanners unless someone was specifically looking for it. If a Sniffer _did_manage to pick up his presence, he was bouncing the signal through so many different corp satellites that for all they knew, he could be hacking them from Amazonia.

Ellis nodded succinctly, and when the security system pinged her device, she allowed it to access her SIN. She kept her arms loose at her side, her expression cool and serious. She meant business, dammit, and she was getting in to do her job no matter how much of a pain these corper idiots made it.

(Feral thought she was doing pretty good at this whole _in-character_ thing.)

As Switch slipped a little bundle of cryptoworms into the system one at a time, the guard finished with their scans, giving them a little nod.

"My supervisor should be down shortly to see you," Freeman informed them.

The man that came to see them was an officious looking little prick in a cheap sportcoat. He was trying to pass it off as more expensive than it was, just like the rest of him from the dyed blond hair, thinning a little at his temples, to his black loafers that bore signs of retouching on the toes. "CFS PSS, huh?" the man asked, shooting Freeman a little look to confirm. The guard nodded.

Ms. Ellis stepped forward with a buttery smooth smile, pro-offering her hand to shake. "Sarah Ellis. Nice to meet you. Now if you don't mind, we really do need to get on with our day. We have three more locations to inspect before lunchtime. Tick-tock, tick-tock." She forced a laugh out.

"Ah, just a moment, Ms. Ellis. I should probably call this in to _my_superior."

With a hearty sigh, Sarah shook her head. "Sir, with all due respect, notify who you need to notify, but the more time I spend standing around in your lobby, the fishier it is. I understand that nobody likes PSS inspectors. We come in, we poke around, we expose building code violations that people would rather remain unnoticed due to fiscal issues. It's widely understood that we're not here to benefit the corps; we are here to make sure _the people_who work at these locations are safe, people like you and me and Freeman."

Feral didn't have great conning skills like some people, for instance, Red, did. However, she knew enough to appeal to people's emotional sides and their reasoning. Say something that sounds plausible, and most people believe it.

"I'll have to note the lapse in time, and unaccommodating attitudes in my report," she concluded, "Which could result in a follow-up investigation. Mister..."

"Campbell," the head of security offered up his name.

"Mr. Campbell," Feral-as-Ellis continued, "No one wants a follow-up investigation. It wastes our resources, it wastes your resources, and frankly, most of them are completely unnecessary. Corps get scared when we show up, but really, it's not as big of a deal as you think it is. Nine times out of ten, there aren't any violations. We're just here to make sure that Horizon is being diligent." Pausing, Ellis tapped her lower lip with her index finger, pretending to think. "Perhaps," she drawled, "We could begin our walk-about in the unrestricted areas while you contact whomever it is you need to contact?"

"The employee locker rooms would be a good place to start," Warren offered helpfully. "The facilities provided for the security staff are right next door, if my information is correct? We could just-"

Campbell paled just slightly, but enough to be visible. "No, no, there's no need to start with somewhere so trivial. Please, if you could just wait for a few minutes, I can have someone come down who can grant you access to the secure areas. You can start at the top and work your way down."

Warren arched an eyebrow up at Sarah for a second before turning his attention back to Campbell. "That's an...unusual offer. You're not hiding anything illegal in your locker, are you?" Will let out one of his 'that business joke was god-awful but I'm going to laugh at it anyway, because I have to' chuckles.

The head of security looked offended. "Sir, I'm head of security. I don't engage in illegal activity."

Will smiled. "Good, then it shouldn't be a problem. We'll just take a quick peek, and you can fetch us when your supervisor comes down." He began to turn towards the door, hoping Feral was following his lead.

"Wait, wait, this is silly," Campbell said, almost mimicking Will's earlier laugh. "Why don't you start in...the call sales sector. That should be fine."

"That's...over in the south sector?" Will asked. "That's all the way on the other side of the facility. I don't want to be an inconvenience."

"No, no inconvenience. It'll just give Mr. Furth time to wrap up what he's doing." He turned his attention to Ms. Ellis. "You were right, there's no reason you can't tend to the unrestricted zones. I'll just call you when we're ready for you."

Will leaned forward to shake the man's hand. "Thank you, Mr. Campbell. I'm sure we won't find anything to report."

Campbell grinned. "No, I'm sure you won't."

Now the man looked like he was ready to pretty much shove them out the door.

Feral was more than happy to let Switch take the lead with Campbell. She wasn't much into all that business jargon, and whatnot. Frankly, she'd just as soon smush his face up against the security desk and tell him they'd better let them through _or else_. Being charming took a lot of effort. When Will started walking away, she was only too willing to turn and shadow him, suppressing a grin as she realized just how effortlessly he'd scared the shit out of the head of security. They'd stumbled on something. Too bad they really weren't building inspectors, because it would be funny as shit watching Campbell piss his pants with fear.

"Thank you, Mr. Campbell," Sarah cooed, trailing Will to the south side of the facility, and pretty much just following his lead. They'd run right into Madden and Ghost, and be able to pick up their stuff.

Will smiled to himself. He'd have to explain to Feral once they could talk freely without risk of a Spider hearing them. The cryptoworms were still curling their way into position and soon would render the Spiders completely oblivious to any unusual activity. They'd be blind, deaf, and without their touch sensors, and they wouldn't even know it; well, as long as the virus was active, anyway, which wasn't all that long. If everything went smoothly, though, it should be long enough for both Runner teams to get in, get what they needed, and get back out.

To be honest, he wasn't one hundred percent certain exactly which part of his "threat" worked on Campbell. One of the reasons could've been an illegal activity thing. Damien used to hire a new head of security every year. "The best people to get things past security _are_security," he had always said.

It made perfect sense, of course. For all Will knew, Campbell was running some sort of BTL trading ring inside that locker room. It wouldn't be the first time security officials pulled that sort of stunt.

On the other hand, the man might have just freaked out because just last year PSS had dinged the corp for the rusty locker doors - a safety hazard. They never bothered with a follow up because it was such a minor infraction, so Will assumed the corp probably hadn't done anything about it. Getting caught for the same thing twice though? _That_ went from a small ding to a black mark on your file, and black marks meant fines. Corps _hated_ unnecessary fines. Either way, Campbell would be fired for it. As head of security, those security employee lockers fell under _his_responsibility...or at least that's how it would go down in Horizon's termination reports. And if he was smuggling something, he'd get hauled off to prison. Whatever the reason, Will had taken a gamble that one or the other might prove to be true, and it'd paid off.

Score one for the tech geek.

Wait, score two...

_"Spiders are blind, boys and girls. Let's do this."_

* * *

"Thank god," Red sighed. He glanced sideways at Rip. "I feel like my eyes were glazing over. Are my eyes glazed?"

She chuckled, and stopped putting up a pretense of trying to work. "You heard him. Let's do this."

_"R&R checking in,"_ Rip stated. _"Ready to move whenever you guys are."_

* * *

Down on the first floor, Ghost stopped fiddling around with the box of tiles. "Oh, yay. I was worried I was going to have to actually start laying this shit. I warn you, tiling is not in my skill set." He grinned when Madden chuckled.

The troll checked in as well. _"We're ready."_

They could see Feral and Switch coming down the hallway.

She grinned, intercepting the package he threw at her mid-air. "Hold this for a sec," she said, shoving her jacket at Switch while she pulled on her custom holster, cinched the belt around her waist, and double-checked the ammo clips. She looked a little like Rambina with the jacket off. The custom work held both her pistols, back-up ammo clipped to her waist, and had a couple of built-in knife holders. All she was missing was a bandanna, and..."I wish we had grenades," she sighed longingly.

Ghost handed Will his PAN gear when Feral took back her jacket, slipping it on over her traveling armory. He wished them luck with a smile.

"Don't need it," Feral snarked, smacking his butt as she walked past him. "We're just that awesome."

The look on Ghost's face was stuck somewhere between very confused and highly entertained. He rubbed his butt cheek. That kind of stung.

Madden chuckled, and shrugged at the questioning look Ghost turned on him. "She gets feisty during Runs."

"I love 'em," she admitted shamelessly. "It's the excitement; gets me all..._excited_." Feral tittered, and winked at Ghost. Actually fucking tittered. Hell, she was downright giddy.

Switch shook his head, his hair darkening into the deep maroon he always wore when he was in full Liberator mode. "Freak," he smiled at Feral as he traded the ear buds and spectacles for his beloved visor. The rest he'd have to change into once they got to where he needed to be to hack into the server.

"And proud," Feral chirped, throwing up a gang sign that looked suspiciously similar to the 'live long and prosper' sign from Star Trek. She trotted after Switch, heading away from the south corridor where Madden and Ghost were working, and more importantly away from the area they'd told Campbell they would be lurking in.

"Come on," Switch directed. "We need to go find a boiler room or utility closet or something, and before you ask, no, we don't need to go to the server room. Everyone always thinks I need to be next to the mainframe to hack it. That's so twenty years ago, plus it's always the first place security looks when they think someone's in their system. I know that'd make things a lot more fun for you, but I don't really like getting shot at while my body's as helpless as a baby wildebeest. Also, I'm ghosting both our comms. It's normal for PSS on an impromptu run - keeps the employees from doing the frantic clean-up dance before the inspectors can walk into a room. It'll keep Campbell on edge too. He'll be expecting that, and knowing he won't know where we are, he'll probably spend all his time either emptying lockers or finding someone who can take care of a rust problem. From here on out, we are legally invisible to the Matrix."

It was all perfectly true, but the other reason he wanted to run his Warren comm on hidden was so that he could use it to hack in tandem with his Knox comm. One would handle his Run, the other would handle Phantom's. No one would know the difference.

"Storage closet, hm..." she muttered. "You mean like that one?"

She raised her hand, pointing out a door conveniently marked 'utility closet.'

"And for the record, I don't think baby wildebeests are as helpless as you seem to think they are. Primates are the only ones with young born unable to fend for themselves. Other species open their eyes and start walking moments after birth."

"Wow. Look at you with your random knowledge. That's usually _my _quirk." Will grinned and stepped into the closest, nodding at the ample space it provided for him to lie down comfortably, _and _still leave room for Feral to hang out wherever she wanted.

"Close the door," he said needlessly as she stepped in behind him, but it was habit born from the need for privacy when changing clothes. He didn't ask her to turn around, though, for some reason completely unfazed by the fact that he was stripping down in front of her. Maybe it was because she'd already taken care of him when he was puking, crying, and (in her own messed up, totally uncool way) having one of his panic attacks. Being seen in his boxers didn't seem like it was so close to the top of the "list of most embarrassing things" anymore. Or maybe it was because he'd already seen _her_ in nothing but her undergarments, and all was fair in...well, maybe not love, but he was _definitely_about to go to war. Speed was more important than his modesty on this one.

As he pulled the mask up over his nose completing the network over almost his entire body, he took a second to place Clint up on top of a hot water tank, making sure the range of motion from the laser would span across the entire room. "You watch her back," he ordered, setting the drone's program to fire at anything that looked like it might be a threat to either Feral or him.

He then turned to the adept. "Okay, Teva, this is really important. I know you'll probably be dying of boredom in here, but I'll probably be the opposite of that in here." He tapped the side of his visor. "If you try to talk to me and I don't say anything, that probably means I'm in the middle of something big and can't be distracted, okay?"

It hadn't even really registered when Will was stripping down. It wasn't like she'd looked at him and thought 'there's a nearly-naked man.' No, she realized quickly, her brain had already turned him into one of her sexless amigos. It was with an almost clinical eye that she'd seen his skinny limbs and decided that kid needed to eat more.

Then Will warned her about talking to him while he was doing his thing in the nets. Tipping her head slightly, Feral gave him a look that said clearer than any words 'duh.' "I'm just going to sit here, and keep a lookout. My job is purely precautionary. I'm expecting to be bored." Though she also expected to be proven a liar at some point. That itchy feeling along her nerves was too familiar to be ignored. She grabbed a stepstool, unfolding it, and plunking her butt down on the top step.

"Good luck," she stated what she was sure was needlessly. Will was good at what he did. More than that, he seemed to shine under pressure. They'd be out of here before Horizon knew what had happened.

* * *

_"Phantom," _Will called.

_"Right here."_

The little rush that always accompanied Phantom's resonance swarmed through Will's sim, jumping up his adrenaline that much more. Doing a prisoner extraction was always so much more difficult than a file theft, but the two of them had a tendency to work together almost flawlessly, reading signals from each other's senses and emotions as opposed to waiting for verbal cues. It wasn't often that Switch got to work with Phantom like this on a Run, not directly in person, but every time he did, it was always a thrill. With the techno inside his system he didn't see the world through the eyes of The Liberator. Instead, he saw it as only one of the Emerged could - a pathway of lights and sounds, colors and emotions, all of it beautifully chaotic and rationally organized at the same time. He wasn't Will or Switch or The Liberator when linked in with Phantom. He was just a formless being, another ghost in the system, reading the language of the Matrix as if it was all he had ever known, all he ever _wished_to know.

But right now, on this Run, he couldn't allow himself to be completely caught up in Phantom's world. He needed to slide back and forth between comms, bouncing from the harmonious flow to the cold world of Lost City that he had designed for himself.

From atop the Lost Tower, The Liberator sighed as he crouched down, peering at the darkened streets below him. Somewhere deep inside, he could still feel the peace that his clone was still engulfed in, and part of him was jealous of that. He shook the thought away - the clone was him and he was the clone, which meant when he hopped back over, a part of his peace would be slightly tainted by the dark form that existed in _this_world.

"Stealthwing," he called out, his gruff voice barely a whisper.

His sidekick was there in a second, lighting down softly on the roof beside him. "Trouble?" he asked, his boyish features looking concerned and excited at the same time. The Liberator shook his head. That kid had a lot to learn.

"Black Hornet has kidnapped the mayor's daughter. We're going to get her out."

"And…?" the younger man prompted.

"Hostage situation in the Aether realms. Three innocents."

Stealthwing shifted his weight from one foot to the other, not in a nervous fashion, but more as a display of his energy level. The kid was antsy to go do something.

"You need me to bounce with you?" he asked.

The Liberator shook his head. "Against me. If I'm in control over here, you need to be over there. I don't want to leave myself unprotected. Understand?"

"Defense mode, got it."

Stealthwing's cape flared out behind him, and he lifted off before Liberator could get in another word. That was fine. The kid would follow his directions, no doubt about that, which meant they wouldn't be seeing each other until either one or the other rescues was finished, for better or worse.

His agent programmed to do its job, Switch pushed himself ahead through both nodes he was running on, flipping between them faster than it took to blink as if he were in control of two different conscious beings at the same time. He existed in a world of shadow, and a world of light, both of which he could easily call home.

He smiled, suddenly finding himself as excited as his sidekick had been as he floated through the Aether in one realm, swung over a dark alley in the other, and prepared himself for battle in both.

* * *

Things appeared to be running smoothly, Red thought with apparent satisfaction. He'd been concerned. So many little screw-ups usually amounted to a bigger fuck-up on the actual Run, like dominoes. All it takes is one wrong move, and the whole line gets knocked down. They'd pulled themselves together though, and done an admirable job. Switch had been both efficient and thorough with each of his jobs-and unlike some, Red wasn't blind to the actual amount of work the other man had been forced to do-and mentally he congratulated Teva on her good judgment. Ghost and Rip had both come highly recommended, and so far neither one had disappointed him. Madden and Feral were two people whom he'd worked with frequently in the past; the three of them worked well together, which was interesting because they all appeared to have very different personalities and styles, but regardless of that, they seemed to click; he knew just what to expect from the two of them.

He and "Doctor Barnes" had shown up on time, and like they'd anticipated, endured a boring yet informative tour of Horizon, and some orientation as to their duties on the P96-HQ5R trials. Then "Doctor Barnes" had firmly insisted they be allowed to dive head first into their research, so they could 'hit the ground running.' The head of Pharmacology R&D had laughed, called them 'eager beavers,' and said cheerfully, "I like that attitude; that's the kind of go-getter mentality that will make your career a success at Horizon." Red had smiled politely, and urged the man to go with the power of his mind alone.

Ten minutes into go-time, and Rip had looked at one of their research assistants and asked, "Can you bring me the P96 samples from the cold case? Then you can go on break."

They'd been finding menial tasks to get the drones out of the lab for awhile now. One lab tech was down in the cafeteria filling an order for custom sandwiches for the whole crew. "It's a welcome to the team present from us," Red had smarmed. Another was filling the toilet paper rolls in the bathrooms on their floor, and cleaning them to Rip's specifications. "It's an OCD thing," she'd said, "And I know it's not in your job description, but I'd really appreciate it. I'll contact custodial services about it later." A third was restocking the lab supplies.

It was fortunate they were both suited up when the fourth and final lab tech in their research department dropped the fucking samples. A vial broke. Just one.

Unfortunately, one was enough.

P96-HQ5R was not an antibiotic, or a pain pill. It was not some kind of substance-eroding acid. P96-HQ5R was a highly experimental man-made bio-weapon. Its natural form was a liquid that, when oxidized, turned gaseous. Originally developed as an anti-psychotic, studies had found the drug had quite the opposite effect on a small proportion of the population. Scientists saw the usefulness of this reaction, studied it, tailored the drug to intentionally produce this effect, and re-released it to a more targeted market. It was re-designed for overseas military maneuvers where total chaos and annihilation in a certain area was desired. Breathing in the noxious fumes caused extreme mental instability. Trial studies had found that patients experienced a variety of psychoses ranging from paranoia, delusions, hallucinations, uncontrollable bouts of rage or depression, violent urges, and other...less palatable reactions. In short, it could strip an entire population of its sensibilities, and the enemy could watch from a safe distance away as they destroyed themselves from the inside out.

Horizon's current project was to develop this product further from an uncontrollable area effect to a solid form that could be used to target an individual.

However, none of this knowledge was listed in Horizon's official documentation of the P96 trials. The company line was, officially, that P96 was an experimental psychotropic drug. The only place the top secret information on this study was kept was located within the hard files. Even the current P96 R&D team had no idea what it was they were really handling. They were told only to suit up for precautionary purposes.

Lab Assistant #4, thinking this was a joke, and that gloves and a mask ought to be sufficient, was not properly geared. He was also the first to be affected.

Red was as surprised as Rip when the man started screaming, high-pitched and lengthy, dropping to the ground and clawing at his own skin. He was also in the dark about the true nature of P96. He turned to the medic, shouting, "What the fuck is going on?"

"Fuck if I know!" the woman shouted back over the din.

Their raised voices drew the man's attention. His eyes were bloodshot, the pupils mere pinpricks. He started babbling in a mixture of Spanish and English about demons, hellfire, and he lurched to his feet, heading right toward them. He was drooling like a dog with rabies from one side of his mouth, lips shiny as he mumbled under his breath.

Safe in their haz-mat suits, Rip and Red were unaffected by the broken vial, but they could hear other sounds coming from outside the room. An alarm went off.

They shared a panicked look, and as a unit, they dove for the lab door before it slammed shut, locking them in with the crazy man...and then they just kept running.

* * *

**TBC…**


	8. Chapter 8

Murphy's Law

Chapter 8

* * *

Fandom: Shadowrun

Pairings: Mostly Gen with a dash of Feral/Red for your angsty delights, oh, and some brief Feral/Ghost

Rating: R

Warnings: violence, gore, mentions of cannibalism, homosexuality, rape, attempted rape, insanity

Archive: Ask

Author: Alex Kade and Lily Zen

* * *

Disclaimer: Shadowrun belongs to Shadowrun peoples. Original characters belong to us.

* * *

Switch was in the Aether system when the change happened. He had been working the doors leading through the east sector, allowing Phantom's team to slide through while the techno worked on disengaging the containment systems that kept the test subjects subdued and unable to use their abilities. During that time, The Liberator was standing by while a decryption program was formulating the passcode to get him in through a backdoor to the P96 files.

There were no loud alarms or flashing lights in the Aether to mirror the ones in the real world. Instead, the change came at him like a tidal wave of thick air, sweeping him through the node until he slammed up against an invisible barrier, knocking the wind out of him. On top of that, he felt his hands tingling with the sensation of an electric jolt, and without conscious thought, he flipped over to Lost City.

"Fuck!" Liberator spat out as he sat up, shaking his hands. The decoder he had been holding completely short-circuited in his hands, sending a big enough shock through his system to knock him on his ass. As he looked up, the walls in the building he was in began to shift around him, much like they had back in that Japanese puzzle box. This time though, it wasn't his illusion. The system was altering itself, becoming a new entity, a new threat.

And inside the Aether, he and Phantom felt it like a new life form.

_"Guys,"_ Will sent out to everyone on both teams. "_I think we need to leave. Now._"

While the walls were shifting around The Liberator, the Aether realm was taking on a whole new form. The wispy, plasmic clouds floating through the air darkened and thinned out, their vibrant colors melding into solid, deep blue beams of light that raced across the backdrop. The tracks of light split off into branches, making sharp turns and precise angles that cut through the previously lofty atmosphere. Will's own ethereal form took a more distinct shape, his body revealing itself through a similar net of blue lines as if all that existed of him was the visible circuit his nervous system made up. The realization hit him then - he was seeing the inside of a massive circuit board, watching the electrical impulses of this new entity take shape and form real thoughts and commands.

_"They're dead."_

The voice startled Will. He wasn't used to Phantom being so direct while they were both inside.

_"What?" _he asked, confused. Why wasn't Phantom just showing him things like he normally did?

_"The Spiders who were controlling the system before. They're dead, their systems fried. The building didn't like them interfering. We need to be careful. If it senses us, it'll come for us too."_

Will looked around at the network of information flowing all around him. It was new, but still familiar. He could still read the language, still decipher which pathways went where, but he wasn't entirely sure how to control it this way. He needed to see it on a more tangible level.

_"I'll cut our link," _Phantom said, having read and understood Will's concerns.

In less than a breath, the technomancer released the tie that had been holding them together, and Switch found himself on a different floor of the building that his double was trapped in within Lost City. The walls were still shifting at random, but he could work in this environment better, able to interact with "physical" objects that made more sense to his human psyche.

"Where do I go?" he asked out loud.

A sprite suddenly appeared in front of him, a pretty little thing with purple wings and deep blue hair.

_"Follow her. She'll help guide you to a door. I've sent one to your other, as well."_

"What are _you _going to do?"

_"Release the hostages. I believe it will take all four of us to shut the system down."_

* * *

Teva was bored. This was by far the easiest Run she'd ever been on in her career. Seriously, she'd been staring at the door of the utility closet for like fifteen minutes. She absolutely could not wait until they got to leave. Easiest money she'd ever made.

She was pushing back her cuticles with her nails when the alarm started. There was commotion out in the hallway, and Teva cautiously poked her head out only to see people running for the nearest contained areas. The building was going on lockdown.

Switch's message came in just as she called out over comms, breaking the radio silence,_ "Guys, what the fuck is going on? People are running. It looks like a lockdown."_

Madden answered first. _"No clue, Feral. Almost done with the hard copies. Just need to get 'em to the van."_

_"Better hurry or you won't be able to," _she snapped back.

Then she inhaled...and smelled trouble. There was definitely something not-air dispersing through the ventilation. _"Switch, get out of there! We've gotta MOVE!"_ There was a sink in the closet, and a pile of rags. She soaked a couple, slapping one over her nose and mouth, and holding the other over Switch's. She wasn't sure just what was coming, but she doubted it was good.

* * *

Feral's order for him to get out rang through his comm, sounding very alarmed and very impatient.

_"Go, Will, we'll help your people,"_Phantom urged.

Will shook his head. "There won't be a 'we' if you try to take this thing on by yourself. You need help, Phantom, and don't try to tell me if I jack out now I can always come back in. I'm not that dense. Tell your sprite thing to take me to a surveillance room. I need eyes out there."

Phantom hesitated. It was the first time Will had ever sensed that in the technomancer, and admittedly it made him nervous. _"Are you sure?"_

"Can you honestly tell me, without a doubt, that you can get those people free without my help?"

_"No."_

"And can you get the rest of us through the lockdown without _their _help?"

_"No."_

_Gotta love brutal honesty,_Will thought.

"Then I don't have a choice. Surveillance. Go." He shooed at the little sprite, but she simply cocked her head at him.

Phantom actually sighed, another reaction Will was unused to sensing in the man. _"Very well. And what shall I instruct of the other sprite?"_

"Take it back in case you need it. The Liberator can handle himself."

He felt Phantom's nod, and then the sprite perked up and motioned for him to follow. It was just in time, too, because one wall rumbled and began to slide towards the opposite one. If he lingered around any longer, he'd be crushed.

* * *

"We are fucked," Teva muttered out loud. _"There's something coming through the vents. Can't identify. Get gas masks on just to be safe."_

_"Good plan,"_ Red's voice said over comms, _"I just saw a man eating his own arm, and before that one having hallucinations about the devil. Whatever this is, it's not good."_

_"What the fuck happened?" _Ghost snapped over their wavelength.

_"Lab tech dropped a vial of P96, the drug we're supposed to be fetching, then this shit happened. We're in haz-mat gear, so we don't seem to be affected," _Rip answered.

_"What_ is _P96?"_Feral growled, growing more alarmed by the second.

"Teva, I can't jack out," Switch said both inside and out of the Matrix, but he knew the words coming out of his physical mouth would be slurred and slow. Juggling his physical body alongside his meshed in form was difficult at best. "If we need to move, I need help."

"Fuck," she yelped out loud, startled by his sudden...loquaciousness, such as it was. "Can you hear me?" she asked curiously.

Just then Madden's voice came back. _"We found some gas masks. Amazing the kind of shit they just leave lying around. Teva, if you can make it here, we've got some for you and Switch too."_

_"And I'm reading through the files,"_ Ghost butt in. _"It says here-what the-?"_

Silence. Disturbing silence. _"Madden?"_ Teva called. At the same time she heard Red going, _"Ghost, report."_

No response.

"Up we go," Teva barked, pretty much deadlifting Will into a standing position. "Good thing you're skinny," she said, and pushed open the door, unprepared for what lay beyond.

* * *

Will was having a little difficulty trying to keep up with the sprite's sudden changes in direction (no doubt done to compensate for the walls moving as they rushed along), the actions of The Liberator who was just busying himself by trying to find anything useful while staying off the building's radar, and keeping himself somewhat connected to his physical body. A muffled sound would come through here and there if he focused hard enough (was Feral saying something to him?), but that was only if he was really trying, and it was too distracting. He had to settle for just forcing his brain to perform its basic motor functions, aided by registering touch enough to know whether he was standing on solid ground or haphazardly ramming into the same wall over and over again.

He felt himself being hoisted up to his feet, and wondered what was going on out there that necessitated moving him. The building going into lockdown mode and killing its own security force was, of course, a concern. A place like this could hold people hostage for days on end until someone came to do a reboot, but the utility closet seemed like it should've been a relatively safe place to hide out in. If it wasn't, then something bigger was happening than just the possibility of starving to death or falling to your doom in an elevator-gone-haywire. He was about ready to open up his commlink to basic call communication as opposed to just direct net data so he could get the whole team's feed, but he didn't get the chance to.

The sprite flittered around yet another corner, but then she backtracked almost as soon as she had disappeared, flying right into his chest. Will couldn't stop his momentum in time, and realized a second too late what had changed the little creature's mind. Sitting on the floor on the opposite end of the hall were two small children, one boy and one girl. They were dressed in rag clothing, emaciated, staring at him with eyes that had the innocent soul burned out of them long before their time.

"Please, mister," the little boy started.

"We're hungry," finished the little girl.

They slowly began to crawl towards him on their hands and knees.

Will stumbled as he backed up a step, then turned to run. He damn well knew an IC program when he saw one, and if one was after him already, he'd fucked up somewhere.

It hit him like a falling brick. The Warren comm. He was still running on the Warren comm, which was hidden, but was still functioning in Horizon's node. It hadn't mattered before when the only person in the corp who might've even attempted to Track him was too busy dealing with a bunch of lockers. It _did_matter when the node itself was trying to weed out any threats. It smelled him in its system and saw him as a threat, and now it wanted him out.

That also meant it had a specific target to gun for, keeping its focus on _him_instead of what Phantom or his other self (completely invisible with its mask of satellite nodes) were doing.

"Stealthwing," he called as he ran, and his agent immediately appeared by his side. "Duplicate. Mimic. We need to keep these guys busy."

"Right," the program agreed readily enough, and wavered until it became the spitting image of Switch's persona. It then doubled itself, then doubled again, sending its clones off in different directions. The IC would be able to tell easily enough that they were merely bits of data once it attacked, but hopefully the agent's replicas would keep it running in circles for a bit. There was no telling _what_those kids were capable of.

While Switch was playing decoy, The Liberator found a window in one of the offices and shattered it, breathing in the familiarity of Lost City for a second. He couldn't linger, but he'd have just enough time to do what was needed. Under too much pressure to try to think of some witty Liberator tool at the moment, he simply grabbed a pen and some paper off the abandoned desk, wrote several quick notes, folded them up into paper airplanes, and tossed them out into the world.

It was a simple text message to his team:

_"Don't use my Warren comm. It's compromised. Send all communications to my Switch line - the Knox comm still has it programmed in. I've cut your ties to Warren. Could be dangerous. Feral, don't forget Clint. We might need his laser. Thanks."_

In the upper floors, Switch paused to catch his breath and pulled a small blade from his pocket. He then yanked down on a set of threads that seemed to lead from him out into space. Without hesitating, he sliced through them all, disconnecting that side of himself from the outside world, making him the sacrificial lamb if it came down to it. Of course, he wouldn't be doing anyone any favors if the lamb were sacrificed before Phantom could get the other technos in place, but still, at least the IC wouldn't be able to go after his friends if it wanted to. They'd still have a chance.

"Go downstairs," he whispered to the sprite. "Go show The Liberator where the surveillance room is. You can't help me up here anymore."

When she disappeared, he knew she hadn't listened because he asked her to. Phantom had received and understood the message, leaving him to face the IC on his own. The problem with that was, as he timed out the spacing to get himself between some mechanical doors that were slamming open and shut, he found himself in a large, empty conference room facing down a black bull with glowing red eyes. Atop it sat a rider dressed in black to match the beast, his hat pulled down low to shadow his face. He cocked his head up just slightly, and Switch caught a flash of red in one eye that flared even hotter than the animal's did.

There was more than one IC.

The door he'd just come through shifted down and disappeared into the floor while another one reappeared off to his right. So the question was, could he outrun a bull?

* * *

"Alright," she snapped aloud, even with having figured out that Switch could not actually hear her, "I'll take your toy!" Grabbing it off the shelf, she shoved the drone in her jacket pocket. She needed a hand free, and one arm was already engaged with holding Will to her side, though she was doing less work supporting him than she'd thought she would need to. Whatever he'd done had clearly given him minimal control over his body. Not enough to be of much use on this side of the world, but she'd be able to move him. Of course, the problem with that was with one hand guiding him, and another protecting, that left no hands for holding her improvised filters to their faces.

_"Feral, get to Madden. We'll meet you there," _Red ordered.

She didn't balk, just pulled open the door, and walked out.

The hallways were mostly empty now. This far down on the first floor, it was a rare idiot who hadn't made it to the secure areas before the doors had come down. She could see white-faced people behind the glass. There was a woman shouting at her, running along the window, pounding on the glass. Feral squinted, trying to read her lips. She thought the woman was yelling 'contamination.'

'I know,' Feral thought, but didn't speak. In fact, she wasn't breathing much either, only taking oxygen when she absolutely needed to. She sent a message off to Switch's comm. _"Tech dropped P96. Oxidized. Coming through the vents. Drug not what it seems. Lockdown initiated. Twenty nuyen says air systems in secure areas are independent."_

A man came careening around the corner. His shirt was off. He was screaming and kept looking over his shoulder as though someone was chasing him.

Feral pulled her gun, but no one came, and he ran right past as though he didn't even see them. She got them to the file room in record time, slipped in the door, and spotted five boxes of hard files, one with gas masks sitting on top of them. She grabbed them unthinkingly, shoving one on Will's face, and the other over her own. She took a deep breath of filtered air, then called out, _"Hello?"_ both out loud and on comms. _"Ghost? Madden?"_

* * *

"Fuck!" The Liberator ground out as Feral vaguely explained what was happening. The fucking drug was causing this, which meant that the file room he had left behind when his decoder went on the fritz probably contained some useful information about the system override. Punching his hand into the wall, he closed his eyes and duplicated himself again. He knew the more of his personas he sent out to control, the riskier it'd be, not only because if increased his odds of being discovered, but it also meant he needed to spend more time controlling each one. Being slower in here could get him killed, which could get everybody else killed, but in this case he didn't have a choice. If cracking into those files could help shut down the override, he needed to get in there.

On the outside, he sent an order to his physical body to slow down his breathing, hoping he didn't push too far and shut down his lungs all together. It was another factor added to his list of shit that was on his plate right now, and he knew there'd be more. As soon as he got to that surveillance room, there'd probably be a _lot_more.

The sprite stopped moving, and he and his double stopped with her. After a beat, the ceiling rotated on some off-center axis, spinning to the side until a metal hatch shifted into place right above his head. She pointed up at it and nodded at him, then shrugged her shoulders as she knocked on the hatch door. He studied it for a second, looking at the old fashioned combination lock jus t off to the side.

"Get me up," he growled at his clone impatiently. He _hated_ combination locks, but he couldn't afford to just blow the hatch on this one. It would draw far too much attention. Instead, he had his double boost him up so he could press his ear close to the lock, working the old way by guess and check, sound and touch. It took him a few tries (and lots of cussing), but finally he heard the last satisfying _click_, and the hatch opened above him. Gripping the sides, he pulled himself up into the tiny space that served as the surveillance room, and gawked at the myriad of screens painting the walls, floor, and ceiling around him. They flashed and flickered between different cameras inside the building, showing people tucked safely (albeit terrified) inside the secure areas, some people running for their lives, others trying to climb walls, and still others who were either violently attacking themselves or their coworkers.

"It's the fucking apocalypse out there," he mumbled. Poking his head out of the hole, he talked to the sprite again. "Take him back to the file room." Again, on Phantom's unspoken approval, the sprite nodded and flew off, his double close behind.

He watched them go for a second, then closed the hatch door back down. He second later he felt the room moving again, spinning him off to some other part of the building, losing him even more inside the system. When it came time to jack out it'd be damn near impossible at this point to find his damn exit door, but it wasn't something to worry about right now.

Shaking his head, he looked around in hopes of finding sort of control console tucked away somewhere. Not seeing anything but screens moving too damn fast for him to get a lock on what was going on where, he settled on tentatively reaching out to touch one. The image froze on the last camera it had been accessing, showing an empty hall with a blood smear trailing down one of the walls. He tapped the screen again, sending it back into its random images, then double-tapped it, which brought up a main menu.

"Now we're talking," he said as his hands practically flew on their own, tapping screens here and there so he could make sense of what he was seeing, careful not to use too many of them. If the system became too organized, the building would see it too, and it would know he was in there. Messing with a couple rods and cones though, that'd be safe.

He pulled up a surveillance map of the whole building on one of the screens, using it to locate camera numbers in the areas he was interested in. An image of the three hostages appeared on another screen, still strapped down to their beds, the IVs pumping drugs into their veins that kept them out of the Aether, their heads covered in those fucking helmets that rerouted their brain waves.

"Phantom, I've got eyes on the techs. They're in a secure area. If I open any of those doors they'll be contaminated."

_"It's fine. I don't need their physical bodies to be free. I just need to free their minds."_

"Yeah? And how's that going for you?" He continued to flip through cameras while he spoke, trying to locate the other members of both teams. He could probably just put a Tracker on their comms, but at the moment, any unnecessary link he sent out was just another thread that could lead to either him or the people he was trying to protect.

Phantom hesitated again. _"I'm finding it...difficult to safely navigate this new system. There are more...we'll call them 'levers' so you understand, that need to be pulled in order to shut down the binding system."_

"Fuck, Phantom, why the hell do you think I didn't get my ass out of here? Spare me another sprite. I'll send another double to pull some fucking levers."

_"Are you spreading yourself too thin?"_

"I got it under control."

The Liberator froze one of the screens as he spotted Red and Rip. They were running towards a door, but it was obvious they weren't going to make it before the thing shut on them. They both hit it hard, slammed their hands against it a couple times in anger, then turned back around. He panned the camera back to the other end of the hall where he didn't see anything, then accessed another cam further back. It seemed quiet, but then he saw the shadows. A _lot_of them. They weren't moving in a hurried fashion, but Red and Rip had nowhere else to go.

"Fuck," he spat out. Fucking Tagalongs could never get their fucking shit together. "Phantom, you better tell me you've got one more sprite to spare. I need to get a guy inside the control room, and I need to do it five minutes ago."

_"Guide your persona in charge of the levers and split from there. It'll put your new double closer. Send back my sprites when you reach your locations. I need them."_

"No problem." The Liberator jumped his conscious thought back into the persona that was racing through the halls, and split off into another double without slowing down, turning the opposite direction in pursuit of the little green sprite that appeared in front of him.

_"Hang tight, guys, I'm working on your rescue,"_he sent to Red and Rip, hoping he'd be fast enough.

_Was_he fast enough? Fast enough to watch everyone at once through surveillance, get to the file room, pull those levers, get those doors open, remember to make his real body function, outrun that bull? He felt like he was, hopping from persona to persona to persona, almost feeling like he was in control of everyone at once.

_Almost._

There was a lag, the tiniest fraction of a millisecond between jumps where he was in control of no one but the persona his consciousness was guiding. In that fraction, all the others were frozen, vulnerable, open to attack and wasting precious time that none of them had. 'Carn's words trickled back into his mind, Feral's added on top of them.

The Liberator hit the wall a few more times as he ran, each punch coming from the hand of the three different personas who were racing through the hallways.

"Quit being a fucking princess, princess, and play the game the right fucking way. Superheroes don't win by playing it fucking safe."

As Switch took that first step in hopes of outracing a bull, he flipped his sim to Hot, and let out a little gasp in all his personas _and_ his physical body at what felt like the exact same time. He knew it wasn't, knew there was still a fraction of a fraction of a lag in between, but it didn't matter anymore. He felt _everything_, and it surged through him like fresh oxygen being given to a drown victim, energizing him on every level. He could outrun that bull, dammit, or he would die trying.

* * *

"Stay," Feral muttered, pushing Switch down into a corner of the hard copy file storage center. He was hidden from sight if someone was near the door by a large shelving system, the rows stocked with huge, cardboard boxes aiding to keep the hacker concealed. Of course, if somebody came up the opposite way, he'd be spotted as clear as day, but there was nothing she could do about that. Madden and Ghost were missing, and there was no telling who else was in the room. She needed Switch out of the way so that her hands were free, and she _really _needed to conduct a search of the darkened room, lit only by the weakly flickering overhead lights.

Inspired, she took Clint out of her pocket, and fixed the little drone up on the shelf unit, laser aimed so that it would cover Will's unprotected side. _"Hiding you to complete a search of the file room. Lost contact with Madden and Ghost. Clint's watching your back," _she told Switch.

Teva glanced down at the file boxes near the door. The cover was off on one of them, a few pages lying discarded in the box top. It looked like they'd been dropped, scattered. There was a boot print on one white sheet of paper, the pale, brown imprint just visible between the compact blocks of black text.

In her left hand she cradled her pistol, breathing as quietly as she could through the gas mask. She'd left her right hand deliberately free, because if she had to go for a knife, it was marginally better for aim. She slipped around the edge of the aisle, letting her muzzle precede her. She'd never understood those characters in horror trids. If they had to waste time getting their gun up...well, somebody with enhanced speed could already be on them, or they could get a bullet in the chest. People tended to pause a little longer when you came at them weapons bared. The first aisle was empty, as was the one following that. Teva walked with hushed steps, her soft, rubber soles hardly making a sound.

Unfortunately, the filter impacted her sense of smell, otherwise the scene in the third aisle wouldn't have caught her so off-guard. She should have been able to smell the blood, but as it was her breath caught in her throat. "Madden!" she shouted, and moved quickly toward the downed troll. He was limp, bleeding from a head wound, and bound from shoulders to feet with old orange extension cords. _"Madden's down,"_ she informed everyone over comms, _"Bleeding. Unconscious. Somebody's tied him up. No sign of Ghost yet."_

_"How bad?" _was Rip's reply.

Before she could answer, a shuffling noise attracted her attention. She left Madden. It was impossible to assess his condition now, not without securing the rest of the room. The last thing Feral wanted was to get sneaked up on while she had no back-up. Proceeding cautiously, she went further down the aisle, following the sound, pausing just before she reached the end. The source was the next aisle over, she felt confident. Taking a deep, soothing breath of hot, densely packed air from the filter, she left the cover of the shelving units, spinning at the same time she moved into the other aisle, dancing back a step or two.

"Ahh!" Ghost yelled, swinging, of all things, a red fire extinguisher at her.

Ducking, feeling the heavy weight whooshing over her head, Feral shouted both out loud and to his comm, _"Ghost! Ghost, it's me! It's Feral! Calm down!"_

He lost his grip on the extinguisher, and it flew, hitting the wall with a huge thunk.

Feral had her gun pointed at him as soon as she could straighten up.

Gas mask on, Ghost panted, staring at her with wide eyes, weaponless as far as the eye could see. The mask made his breath sound funny to her ears, a little like that ancient Star Wars thing. "Feral?" he repeated aloud.

"Yeah," she stated.

"Oh, thank god," the man sighed, and flung himself at her.

Feral quickly took her finger off the trigger, finding the muzzle jammed up against Ghost's ribs, his arms wrapped around her.

"This guy, like, came out of nowhere, and he was all 'blurgh!'-scary and shit, and Madden was like 'I got this,' and I was like 'that's cool, dude, do your thing,' but then Madden chased the guy into the stacks and lost him, and was like 'hey, Ghost, help a brother out here,' and I was like 'sure,' 'cause that's what you do when you're a good teammate like me, and then that _motherfucker _tried to kill me!" Ghost squeezed Feral tightly, hands on her back.

She was stiff as a board under the unwanted contact.

"His mask was off, and he was all angry and stabbity, and it was lucky for me that I found this fire extinguisher in the middle of running away-because that is what sensible people do when angry trolls come after them-so I turned around, and hit him! Then I tied him up, and found a safe, dark place to hide because there is some really scary shit going on out there, and I am so not up to facing anymore psychos. Thank god you're here to rescue me!" His hands started traveling down her back, and it was obvious that somewhere under the mask a pale version of his usual flirtatious grin was blooming. "I think we should totally get married, and you can ride off into the sunset with me on the back of your white horse."

"I think you'd better let go of me right fucking now," Teva finally growled, and pushed him away.

He stumbled back, catching himself on the shelves. "Alright, alright," Ghost laughed, "It was just a joke."

"Why the fuck would you go for a fire extinguisher rather than your weapon?" she growled suspiciously.

"Uh, all I have on me right now are a couple knives," Ghost stated like she was an idiot. "I was thinking non-lethal would be better."

Considering that carefully, she nodded. "Alright, come on then. I need to take a look at Madden, and you need a firearm or something."

* * *

"_How bad?_" Red repeated. "We are _trapped_," he slapped the palm of his hand against the door again, "with a horde of zombies right around the corner, and you want to form a prognosis? What good will that do?"

"They're not zombies," Rip answered as she leaned back against the door.

Red stared at her for a minute. "Ambling, moaning, trying to eat our limbs - what about that does _not _classify those people as zombies?"

Rip held up a hand to count off the listed items as she spoke, her words coming out a little sharper than normal. "Respiratory function, heartbeat, brain activity, forming actual words around the moaning, and they're _walking_, not _ambling. _As far as eating our limbs go, I didn't actually see any of them trying to bite you, and last I checked zombies didn't attack with pieces of broken furniture. They're just people infected with a virus."

"Great. Good. We'll make sure someone mentions that in your eulogy: 'We're sorry to have lost such a compassionate soul, but if it eases your grief, know that it was not zombies who killed her but rather a mob of violent, psychopathic, disease-ridden, _living _people.' Would that make you happy?"

She turned her head away from him and crossed her arms over her chest, one finger tapping against her elbow in an unusual display of agitation. Down the hall, the sounds of the _not_zombies were coming closer, putting her more on edge. It frustrated her to no end that she was losing her cool, and it was probably the same for Red. Worse, actually, because the people he came in here with were friends of his, one of which was now confirmed injured. She couldn't really blame him for being...less than his controlled self. Taking in a calming breath, she uncrossed her arms as she spoke to him.

"I wanted to assess his condition so when we get out of here, I'll know what we're dealing with. There might also be something Feral can do for him while she waits for us." She made sure to keep her voice calm and even as she explained herself.

Red let out a sigh, keeping his eyes glued to the place where any second now the _zombies_ would be emerging. _"Please, Switch, take your time. No rush," _he said sarcastically both aloud and into the comm.

_"Keep your fucking panties on, I'm working on it,"_the tech snapped back.

Red was about to respond when the first of the infected stepped around the corner, freezing in place like a pointer who had spotted the coveted flock of quail. The rest of the dogs were quick to join in the hunt, egged on by the promise of blood in the air. Five in all - not unbeatable odds by normal means, but if something were to happen to cause a tear in their suits, they'd be lost to the virus as well. The thought of sending them both into magic drain while they waited for a door to open wasn't exactly comforting, either. Their skills would probably be better used elsewhere.

_Then again..._Red thought as the looks on the zombies' faces got decidedly more...hungry.

Maybe a little spell slinging would be called for, after all.

* * *

_"Good news,"_ Feral chirped over their comms, _"I found Ghost. Bad news: he's kind of a pussy. What the hell, Red? I thought you vetted this guy."_ She strolled back to Madden, spinning her pistol like an Old West gunslinger around her finger. Relax, the safety was on. Pussies. _"Also, apparently Madden's infected with whatever the fooksha is going on out here. I don't know, from what I can tell everybody's unleashed their inner Neanderthal."_

_"Teva, little busy," _Red answered sharply.

_"Ghost, say something," _Rip stated.

_"Something," _the man chuckled, as he stood a few paces behind Feral. Ghost rocked on the balls of his feet, hands stuffed deep in his pockets.

_"Don't be such a bitch, Red. I know you're miffed 'cause your hair might get mussed or whatever, but don't get snippy with me just because you're having a bad day. Newsflash, we're all having a fucking shitty day," _she replied easily, crouching down to take a look at Madden.

The bleeding was coming from his head, which wasn't great but it wasn't terrible either. She lifted his skull with one hand, pushing his hair aside with the other to get a clearer view of the wound. It wasn't that deep. Madden's bone deposits had shielded most of his head.

Madden grunted, starting to come around.

Red's reply came as she was telling Ghost, "Hey, kitten, get me Madden's gas mask and a first aid kit." The shaman's voice huffed over their frequency, _"I hate you."_

_"No, you don't,"_ she countered, surprisingly cheerful considering the circumstances. Must have been all the excitement. _"You lurrrrrrrrrve me. In some tiny, darkened crevasse of your shriveled soul you want to throw me down on a bed, spank some manners into me, and then fuck me 'til my brains come leaking out of my ears." _She was more than a little stressed, wondering what the hell was going on, and when Feral felt pressured, it sometimes emerged in the form of thoughtless, hysterical commentary often with a dry, humorous bent to it. That was all. Really.

Ghost had to get down on his knees to retrieve the gas mask from underneath a bottom shelf. When he shuffled over on his knees, and handed it to her, it was obvious that somehow he was injured as well.

Feral frowned at him behind her mask. Why hadn't he said anything?

Rip's voice cut into her merry babble, dryly stating, _"How romantic...and anatomically impossible."_

Feral laughed. _"Sweetheart, sixty years ago everything we do would have been anatomically impossible. Metahumanity is constantly evolving."_

Ghost was looking at her expectantly.

Raising an eyebrow, Feral snapped, "What? Jesus, unless you're too injured to move, find me a goddamn first aid kit!"

"Okay," Ghost practically squeaked, and leaped up, wincing, reaching for his side automatically, but shuffling off to find a first aid kit. He returned a couple minutes later, bearing a box held balanced on top of both of his palms. With an almost ceremonial air, he lowered himself to the floor, offering it up to her.

Teva rolled her eyes at his theatrics, and snatched it out of his hands.

He paused, going very silent and still for a moment before he seemed to snap out of it.

She was pressing a trauma patch to the back of Madden's head when Red growled tensely over their comms, _"Teva, what is going on?"_

_"Thought you wanted me to shut up," _she replied.

_"Teva..." _he drawled, his voice deep, sincere, and rife with 'I'm going to kick your ass when I see you.'

_"Patching up Madden,"_ she answered with an exasperated sigh. _"Ghost's next."_

"Milady," Ghost began, giving a courtly bow. "Your servant."

"Stop fucking around," she snapped. "It's really starting to annoy me."

Again, there came that fat, pregnant pause.

Teva sighed in exasperation, and slipped Madden's gas mask over his head. True, he was already infected, but maybe time would let the drug run its course if they cut off his exposure. She wondered idly why the drug wasn't affecting her as well. She and Switch had been just as exposed as Madden, maybe more so, yet she didn't feel infected...or maybe she did, and she just didn't know it because she'd never felt it before.

"Shirt off," she ordered Ghost, and didn't even need to see his face to know that he just leered at her.

Madden turned his head, mumbling indecipherably.

Ghost pulled down the zipper on his coveralls, and shrugged his shoulders out of the sleeves. Underneath he was wearing a wife-beater, and when he did nothing more than stare passively, Teva grew impatient, tugging it up.

Immediately, she winced. "That's some impressive bruising," the adept acknowledged, eyes on the red-violet stain spreading up one side of Ghost's abdomen. It looked almost like a really large butterfly, if butterflies were the size of a big crow.

"We fought," Ghost answered quietly.

"I thought you ran," Feral replied, prodding along his ribs to feel for breakage.

"I did. There was fighting, then running," he stated, eyes locked on her downcast gaze.

"Mm," she murmured in acknowledgement.

"You have a pretty name."

"Feral?" she wondered absently.

"No, your real name," Ghost countered. "Teva," he said slowly and quietly, as though testing out the syllables.

"Thanks?" she replied distractedly. "It doesn't look like anything's broken, and I'm not going to try binding you up. That can do more harm than good in some cases."

"Teva," Ghost repeated her name.

"What?" she snapped.

He leaned in close, almost touching the top of her head, and then he _sniffed her fucking hair_.

"What the fuck?!" Teva jumped back, her head almost colliding with his face. "Ghost, totally inappropriate! I-" and then she noticed that the eyes behind his gas mask were little tiny pinpricks, and he was reaching for her. She stumbled back over Madden's body, and he grunted, eyes flying open.

"Teva?" the troll asked, and squirmed. Upon realizing he was bound, he squirmed even harder, stretching the electrical cords around his bulk.

Ghost advanced on her.

She didn't want to hurt him, not really. He was an ally. Every rule of Running pretty much ended with 'you don't fuck over your team.' She kept backing up, slowly, carefully, hands raised to show her harmlessness. All she had on her were guns and knives, nothing that would help this situation, not without making things a lot worse.

Madden's eyes focused on Ghost's bare back as he walked toward Teva, tank top rucked up underneath his armpits. "Oh shit," he murmured, and struggled harder. Ghost, however, had done a good job with the cords. "Teva, he's infected!" Madden shouted.

"So are you," she reminded herself aloud nervously.

Ghost sprang.

Teva whirled around, trying to make a run for it. She was faster, but he had a longer stride. She made it six feet before she felt herself get tackled, before the air whooshed out of her lungs. Hitting the ground face first, she bit her tongue, the taste of copper flooding her mouth. She yelped.

Ghost had his hands on her, turning her over. It was pretty much every nightmare she'd ever had about Running in the first place.

She spat, bloody sputum hitting him in one eye, and got her hands up, trying to push him away. With his body on top of her legs, she couldn't do much, though she squirmed, pushing her heels against the floor to scoot herself along.

"Why are you being so mean?" he asked, genuinely bewildered. "I'm just trying to be nice to you."

"Fuck you," Teva shouted, punching his weak rib, splintering the bone.

He screamed, an animalistic sound, and grabbed her wrists, twisting until he had them pinned.

"Let go!" Madden yelled in the background.

Ghost abandoned holding her, his eyes lit with a new idea, a better idea.

Teva pushed, sliding them a few inches across the floor. Why hadn't she upped her strength? Next power level, she was totally upping her strength. Fuck this damsel shit.

Hands around her throat, tight, so tight, cutting off the flow of even the hot, filtered air. Panic flared. She hit wildly, but her touches lacked impact as Ghost lost himself to the madness swirling within. Teva pushed off with her heels again, twisting, bucking. Ghost rode her like a bronco, but she managed to pull them another inch or so. If she could just get him in range of Switch's drone... The laser would put a stop to him without killing him, though to be honest she was rapidly becoming less concerned about that.

* * *

Switch was running. So was the bull. The rider's shadowed face was split apart by an overly wide, startlingly white grin.

Liberator One was keeping an eye on the events unfolding in the file room - seeing his own body neatly tucked away, Clint guarding his back; Feral tending to Madden's wound; Ghost acting, well, like a nine-year-old, frankly; but all seemed relatively calm. He glanced up to the screen showing Rip and Red, the doc pressed back against the door while their team leader stood slightly ahead, Red looking like he was gearing up to do something as the infected group drew closer. The two of them carried on their conversation with Feral almost as if nothing were happening, and The Liberator, out of a rare feeling of respect for the League grunts, apologized for his earlier outburst. They were doing phenomenally well in holding it together under the circumstances, and not informing Feral of their current predicament so as not to worry her was incredibly honorable. "Hold on, kids, I'm almost there."

Liberator Two, one of his other duplicates, was sitting on the floor outside the file room, jacking into a system _inside_the system, something he hadn't done before. The security on the door was running on something akin to its own internal node, and having tried all other ways he could think of to access it, he came to the conclusion that hacking it from within was the only way to go about it. He was tired of getting fucking shocked by poking at it from the outside. "Stealthwing, I need a duplicate down here to wake my ass up if something comes along," he ordered, and slipped into the node as soon as his sidekick appeared.

Liberator Three was up in some sort of air duct, crawling through the tight space and cursing as he occasionally found himself stuck here and there. No wonder Phantom was having so much difficulty - finding the fucking levers was like a goddamn Easter egg hunt, agitating the sprite as the damn things seemed to relocate themselves within the moving walls of the maze. If that wasn't bad enough, it seemed that once found, _getting_ to the damn things was twice as bad. _Three times,_ he corrected as he reached the end of the horizontal shaft and stared up into the dark space above his head where the sprite was beckoning him on. Scaling the inside of a metal fucking chimney was _not_his idea of a good time.

Liberator Four was engaged in a little dance with the biggest fucking gorilla of an android bouncer he'd ever seen. It wasn't an IC, but it sure as hell was a tough as nails, no bullshit guard dog who _really_didn't want him getting into that control room. The Liberator's first move had been to try to blow the guy's head off, aiming at the throat with his laser. His shot hit, but he wasn't overly surprised to find that it didn't damage the robot any more than to render it Mute, which was exactly what he was hoping for when he lined up his shot. If he couldn't literally blow off the head, he could at least keep it from calling out to one of its IC buddies. There was already enough of that going on up on the upper floors.

Switch was halfway to the door, knowing by the sound of the bull's closing hoof beats that it would catch him before he got there. He waited until he could almost feel its steaming breath heating his skin before he dove down to the floor, rolling out of the way before it could impale him with its massive horns. Coming up running, he veered off course, using his smaller size and nimble speed to his advantage.

The bull had to slow down to make an awkward turn, buying Switch some time to gain some distance. If he couldn't outrun the creature, he might have a chance if he either zigzagged his way to that door, or bought enough time for it to shift and reappear on a wall that was closer. As he was simply a program, a product of numbers and electrical impulses, he'd be able to dodge that bull all day if he wanted to without getting tired, so the plan would work if he was smart about it.

Or _would_ have worked if not for the one extra ace up the sleeve the IC had: The Rider. The creepy smile on the otherwise black face grew disgustingly wider, and the red eyes glowed brighter as the man twisted his body around at an impossible angle, following Switch's movements easily while his mount righted its footing. Pulling a lasso off his shoulder, he spun it in the air just once before letting it fly, anticipating Switch's change of direction as he tried to keep the animal off its game. The loop caught him around the shoulders and pulled tight, jerking him off his feet down onto his back. The air rushed out of his lungs in a _whoof_in all his forms, his real body included, and he lay still for a second in stunned silence. A second later his brain kicked back in telling him to get the rope off, but it was a second too late.

The IC's attack had hit.

The Rider sent a wave of biofeedback through the cord, not only jamming his connection open so he couldn't log out even he tried, but also sending an intense jolt of lightening-hot pain searing through him. Every muscle in his body tensed, his back arching up off the floor in reaction to the electrical web dancing over and around him.

Liberator One dropped to the ground in the surveillance room, arms wrapped around his head that felt like it was going to explode off his shoulders.

Liberator Two felt the air stop moving through his lungs, and desperately tried to keep his feet on the pressure plates of the puzzle trap he was working on inside the security node.

Liberator Three slid back down the shaft a few feet, his limbs shaking as he stopped his rapid descent despite the sudden pain tearing through them.

Liberator Four missed his shot, and was barely able to dodge the android's next blow as he clutched at his chest, his heart beating on an erratic rhythm.

And in the real world, Will's body let out a small, breathless cry of pain as he experienced it all.

* * *

She heard Switch's cry, a soft, broken sound, despite the fact that she was having the life choked out of her. Spots danced in her field of vision.

Teva punched Ghost in the face, and while he was distracted, eyes tearing up, she gathered herself and shoved against the floor with all her might, sliding them the last few inches into Clint's range.

The drone reacted to the intrusion, firing into Ghost's chest.

He screamed, falling over, his hands releasing her.

Gasping for breath, Teva pushed the bloody man off of her, rolling them back out of range. She grabbed his head while he was crying-seriously, crying; what the fuck?-and slammed it back against the concrete, knocking him out. She fell over, breathing heavily, a shudder dancing its way down her spine.

"Teva? Teva!" Madden called out her name.

"I'm okay!" she croaked, and began in a raspy voice, "Do us both a favor and stop struggling to get loose. Nobody gets to be loose anymore except for me, not until Rip gets here." Moving with a weariness borne of soul-deep exhaustion rather than anything physically strenuous, Teva dragged herself back over by Switch's meatsuit, dropping in next to him. She patted his knee, her voice sounding like sandpaper as she said, "Thanks for the drone. Hope you're okay."

She took her gun out, laying it on her knee.

"Anybody who moves gets shot," she called out. "Fair warning." _Fuck this day. Fuck this Run. Fuck all ya'll._

* * *

The power behind the attack died out, and Switch fell limp as he heard The Rider laugh. It was a hollow sound, devoid of the joy that such a noise usually carried with it. Instead, he could only hear menace echoing off the walls of the room, the walls that rumbled and shifted again, putting the door on the opposite side from where it had originally started. He barely had time to acknowledge its new location before he was tugged backwards, The Rider barking out his empty laugh even louder as he urged his bull into a run, dragging Switch along behind him.

The pounding inside The Liberator's head finally dulled to a tolerable level, replaced by a burning sensation in his back and a cinching around his chest. It was tolerable, though, and he forced himself up on shaky feet. He barely caught the sight of Clint blasting a small hole into Ghost's chest, knocking him off Feral's struggling form. "What the fuck?" he asked as she knocked Ghost unconscious and tucked herself in beside Will's body.

Glancing over at the other screen, his confusion grew even more as Red and Rip now leaned back against the door in an almost casual manner, Rip...laughing?...as she seemed to shake her head at her partner, who merely shrugged in return. A pan of the camera revealed the five infected in various positions on the floor, and at first The Liberator thought they were in pain. Upon closer inspection, he realized their faces weren't scrunched up in the "I'm hurting" kind of way. "...the fuck?" he asked again as he realized _why_the people were writhing around on the ground. This was the weirdest fucking rescue mission he'd ever been on.

Two sucked in as deep of breaths as he could manage with the invisible tight band still restricting his lungs, but at least he could breathe again. He had almost blacked out, which would've been very, very bad. The pressure plates he was standing on were a combination in their own right, a puzzle of stones that had to be depressed in the right order or a trap would be triggered. Judging by the holes lining each wall of the cave on either side of him, he was guessing arrows. Becoming a human pincushion was not on his to-do list for the day, fuck you very much. Drawing in another semi-deep breath, he looked at the pictures etched into the next two stones, but they were worn down with time, erosion eating away the details. Slowly, he squatted down to gently brush away some of the sand, hoping to get a clearer look. He needed to find the roman numerals hidden within the images, but they were only partials. He couldn't read the numbers. "Fuck," he sighed, and took a chance that the one to his right was the right number.

Three winced at the added pain that pressing his back into the metal caused him. It seared him every time his pushed up the walls, gaining him a few feet of height at a time up the shaft. It didn't help that he was now finding it a little difficult to breathe, and it wasn't due to any fucking claustrophobia bullshit. When he finally reached the top of the shaft, he hauled himself out into a dark room and just lay on the floor for a second, his whole body trembling against the strain his muscles had to endure and the pain in his back. When the little yellow sprite flew in front of his face, pointing at the lever, he flipped it off and rolled himself onto his knees. _Impatient little shit,_ he sneered as he forced himself up onto his shaking legs. Staggering across the room, he pretty much just fell against the lever, using his weight to push it into position. "One down," he informed Phantom, then jumped as the four walls in the tiny room began to slide towards one another at an alarmingly fast pace. Without thinking, he leaped back down into the shaft, not realizing that while the room above had been shrinking, the vent below had been widening. He didn't have anything to brace himself against. _This is going to fucking hurt,_he realized as he plummeted rapidly towards the bottom.

Four rolled to the side, barely avoiding a robotic foot coming down to stomp on his face. The random pounding in his chest leveled out, allowing the blood to flow through him again at a normal rate. Pulling out his chains, he whipped them around to ensnare the android's leg as it raised a foot again to kick him, giving a jerk on his end then yanked the thing down to the ground. Diving for his gun that he'd dropped during the fight, he came up in time to send several shots point blank into the droid's chest before it completely regained its footing. Sparks flew as it began to short circuit, and he let go of the chains as the robot jerked around until it finally fell back to the floor, twitching as its glowing eyes faded to darkness. "Piece of fucking shit, give me back my chains," he wheezed against the tightening in his lungs as he untangled his weapon from the thing's foot.

The guard out of the way, now all that was left to do was to get into the room...which was locked with not one, but three old-fashioned combo locks. "FUCK!" he shouted, and kicked at the door hard with his steel-toed boot.

He began working on the locks with steady concentration that rapidly devolved into anger. Every time he'd get close, he'd fuck up a number, which reset all three locks with new combinations. "Fucking...piece of...shit...locks!" Four yelled between kicking the door. The effort left him out of breath with that damn restricting band still wrapped around his chest, and the action stung his back more than it was already burning, but at the moment he was too angry to care.

Forcing himself to calm down, he drew in one long, slow breath and tried again, doing his best to clear his mind of everything else going on. One at a time, the numbers clicked into place until finally, _finally_, the door swung open. Inside the room he was met with a very different setup than the one in the surveillance room. This one was nothing more than a cubicle, really, housing a single large screen with a rolling chair set before it. The Liberator slid into the seat and touched the screen, becoming familiar with its controls. It only took seconds before he was able to figure out how to navigate the system, and he wasted no time in getting the door for Red and Rip opened. He shut it again behind them, blocking them from the apparent sex party the infected had fallen into (_freaks_), and waited a beat while Liberator One continued his search through the surveillance screens for where the rest of Phantom's team might have disappeared to.

* * *

Rip was leaning against the wall, chuckling with relief at their situation, and exactly how Red "solved" the problem. "Orgasms, really?"

He shrugged slightly, then grinned. "I was a teenager. Learning the spell seemed too entertaining a prospect to pass up."

She laughed again.

The door next to them popped open. They took one look at each other and dashed through, leaving their writhing would-be attackers behind.

"How long is that spell going to last?" Rip asked while they jogged down the corridor.

Behind them, the door slid closed again.

Red considered the answer for a moment. "I don't know. I don't usually stick around long enough to find out after I use it." There was an impish quality to his tone, and Rip thought to herself that she'd certainly fallen in with an odd group on this one.

The elevators were locked down, so if they wanted to get out they'd have to take the stairs, unless Switch could get an elevator working for them. _"Switch, can you turn on the elevator?"_

Guess that answered the question as to what to do next. Pulling up the controls for the elevators, he confirmed through One's vision which grouping of elevators he needed to be working with, and frowned as he realized it wasn't going to be as simple as just turning them on. Much like the door, he was going to have to power the thing manually, keeping his fingers on the little box icon to raise it or lower it by hand.

_"I can, but it might be safer to take the stairs," _he warned.

_"I trust you," _was Red's response.

Well, if _that_ wasn't the stupidest thing anyone ever... _"Fine, you fucking lazy shits, if I drop you, don't come crying to me about it."_

_"If you drop us, I seriously doubt we'd have the chance to come crying to anyone about it."_

He had a point. Sighing, Liberator brought one of the boxes up to their level with one hand, forced the doors open with the other hand while he held the elevator in place, and closed them again once his passengers were on board. He carefully lowered the icon down and, with an evil little smile on his face, he hummed them his favored Claire De Lune so they wouldn't miss out on the token sappy elevator music.

Liberator One let out a chuckle at the look that passed between Red & Rip, interrupting his own song, and was about to comment when-

Switch, out of sheer desperation, reached into his left pants pocket and pulled out a small bomb - just another of his toys, yes, but just like the ones in the real world, this one could pack a heavy punch when it needed to. In the real world it'd be known to programmers as a Data Bomb, blowing pieces of data into oblivion. Here, it was a risky tool to get himself free of that lasso before The Rider had a chance to grow tired of dragging him around in circles and went for something more damaging. Holding his breath, he attached the bomb to the rope against the side of his right arm - it was the closest place he could reach with his arms pinned as they were to his sides that would also cause the least amount of critical damage to his body. Having set the timer for only five seconds, just long enough to get it attached to the rope and turn his face as far away from the explosion as possible, it blew as soon as he got his hand out of the line of fire. The threads of the rope snapped instantly, as did his arm, chunks of flesh and muscle blown away to expose the jagged, broken bone beneath.

Knowing Feral was right beside him, Will's good hand shot out to latch onto her in a death grip, his scream inside the Matrix echoing in the real world as nothing more than a shuddering groan.

And the hands controlling the elevator lost their hold, sending Red and Rip plummeting to what would be a swift demise if they hit bottom.

* * *

Feral jumped and gasped when Switch grabbed her, still a little jumpy from the whole thing with Ghost. He moaned like a dying man. _"Switch, what's going on?"_she asked, squeezing his hand a little just so that he knew she was there. She didn't know if there was anything she could do for him, but she could just be there; sometimes that was enough.

* * *

**TBC…**


	9. Chapter 9

Murphy's Law

Chapter 9

* * *

Fandom: Shadowrun

Pairings: Mostly Gen with a dash of Feral/Red for your angsty delights, oh, and some brief Feral/Ghost

Rating: R

Warnings: violence, gore, mentions of cannibalism, homosexuality, rape, attempted rape, insanity

Archive: Ask

Author: Alex Kade and Lily Zen

* * *

Disclaimer: Shadowrun belongs to Shadowrun peoples. Original characters belong to us.

* * *

As the elevator dropped out from underneath their feet, that flimsy metal box free-falling down a shaft where they would meet a violent and abrupt end, Rip and Red both reached for the sides, bracing themselves. "Should've taken the stairs!" Rip shouted.

Red glared at her. "You think?!"

_"Switch, we're about to plummet to our deaths here. Any time you want to rescue us would be great,"_ the shaman stated, a note of clear panic in his voice.

* * *

"Shit..._SHIT!_"

The sudden agonizing pain in his arm had nearly knocked him out of the chair. What the hell had he been _thinking_, damn near blowing off his own arm like that? Fucking retarded fuck, didn't he realize that would affect everybody else?

_You're talking about yourself, Will._

"Shut up."

Clenching his teeth, he slapped his one functional hand back against the screen, letting his right arm dangle uselessly by his side. He didn't bring the elevator to a dead stop, instead just continuing the natural slide of the icon down the screen at a gradually slower pace so he didn't jolt its passengers too badly as he brought it down.

_"Sorry,"_ he bit out as he slid the doors open once the box settled on the bottom floor, _"Now get the fuck off, and don't ask me to work another fucking elevator."_

Two had just made it to the other side of the pressure panel puzzle when the bomb had blown. He sat on the ground panting, his left hand clenched tight around his dead arm as he gazed ahead at the next challenge. Strung across the hall were a number of crisscrossing ropes, looking very much like an original rendition of the laser traps used in more modern security systems. He'd have to slip through, under, and over them very carefully, doing his best not to touch any of them. If he did, and he caused the ropes to vibrate just enough, he was sure whatever trap got sprung would _not_be a pleasant experience.

"Thanks, me, a dead arm throwing me off balance is _exactly _what I needed for this. Moron."

After struggling to detach the grappling hook head with his one hand, Liberator pulled out some of the line on the cable he typically used to swing from one building to another and bound his arm up against his body. It wouldn't do to have the thing flopping around, slamming into ropes this way and that.

The binding done, he sucked in a breath and took a steady step over the first rope, hoping to god his idiot self didn't get damaged again while he was inside the spider's web.

In a vastly different part of the node, Three lay on his side, blinking up at the wall...ceiling...wall...that was right in front of his face. He should've fallen straight down, should've impacted the ground feet first, most likely breaking a leg at best. Instead he had landed on his right side, his arm slamming against the ground even as his other self blew it to uselessness.

_Not really 'the ground,' _he corrected. It was more like he slammed into a side wall, slid down it as the angle of his descent went from vertical to slanted to completely horizontal, and came to an abrupt stop as the wall containing the shaft he was in rotated on it axis. Through sheer dumb luck the shifting of the maze actually _helped_him, saving him from what would've been a game-stopping fall.

"Rule #2," he grunted as he pushed himself up on his hand and knees. "Pulling levers in the villain's lair will _always _trigger a fucking trap."

The yellow sprite hovered in the air, watching him for a second in confusion.

"Go! I'm fucking coming."

"So...stupid..." Switch hissed as he stumbled up to his feet. His arm was bleeding terribly, and the sight of the mangled mass of tissue and bone nearly made him vomit, but he had to keep it together. He had timed that bomb just right, getting that rope off him before he got dragged too far from the door. He could hear The Rider turning the bull around, having realized he'd lost his prize before he'd even really begun toying with it.

Without looking back, Switch made his legs carry him towards the exit, forcing his mind to distance itself from his arm, his back, and every other lingering pain from the initial biofeedback. If he could get through that door, he'd still be under The Rider's initial jam, still unable to jack out safely, but he'd at least be temporarily away from the violent attacks. He could buy himself more time, tend to his wounds, and give his Liberator alts what they needed to complete their tasks. All he needed to do was reach that door.

The wall shifted again just before he got there, and a sob escaped him as he beat his hand against the spot where the exit was sitting just a moment before.

_I'm going to die, _he thought, exhaustion weighing on him from the sheer magnitude of everything he was facing.

He felt Teva's hand squeeze his, a little surprised at how much he had unconsciously been able to still keep in touch with his physical body. Apparently he had needed the comfort, sought it out and found it being returned, and it was exactly what he needed to fuel him.

Turning around, he pulled his very much alive and fully-functional Avengers from his pockets, modifications in place to allow them their more specialized powers, and he even added Thor into the mix to complete the team.

_"Going down fighting," _he answered Feral, and squeezed her hand again for good measure. Tony, Thor, and Clint (on his promised Skycycle) took off to form an aerial attack while Natasha, Steve, and Bruce sped off towards the bull's feet, the Bruce drone growing in size and shape as it Hulked itself out.

Switch smiled as the eerie grin fell from The Rider's face when the aerial crew all launched their specialized attacks simultaneously. _"Or maybe not going down at all."_

* * *

_"No more elevators," _Red promised Switch, as he and the medic stumbled off the elevator, simultaneously relieved and yet still breathless from the adrenaline rush.

"Hallelujah and can I get an 'amen'?" Rip muttered.

They were proceeding down the hall away from the main bank of elevators when Red rounded a corner ahead of her, stopped for a second, and then backed up again quickly.

Rip smacked into his back, and barked, "What the hell?" She was becoming rapidly annoyed with this whole thing. It was so not what she'd signed up for.

"Zombies," Red replied. "Turn around, turn around..." He started backing away.

She reached out quickly, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Are you kidding? This is the fastest way there. Sling some spells and be done with it. Now I know why Feral keeps making fun of you," the medic hissed under her breath.

Red shot her a withering glare. "Not you too," he bemoaned, but turned around. With his hands folded, eyes closed, he made a series of complex and bendy hand gestures, lips moving but no sound emerging.

Rip quieted. She recognized a centering technique when she saw it, and gave him the benefit of her silence.

A little frown line appeared between his eyebrows as he concentrated. The hand gestures ceased but remained folded almost as though he was praying. Red stepped back into the hall.

Rip followed curiously, but stayed a safe distance behind him. If he was unleashing the O spell again, she didn't want to risk getting tagged. Her eyes widened at the scene. One man was brutally slamming his own head into a wall, while a few feet down the hall a woman in a business suit and a man whose white, short-sleeved button down was going translucent under his arms were fighting each other. They rolled on the floor, he pinned, she kicked and bit and sunk her nails into his eye socket, squirming out from between his legs and scrambling to her feet, kicking him in the ribs over and over. Beyond that a petite figure was giggling, high and hysterical, throwing things off of the janitorial cart at the two in combat.

Suddenly the hallway went dark. Red had done nothing extravagant, merely lowered his hands in a pushing movement, palms flat and down-turned in the air.

She could still see, but only because of her elven heritage. The humans, however, were very nearly blind. It was good thinking.

Red started walking forward, skirting around everybody. The darkness hadn't even given the fighters a moment's pause, their rage was so blind. However, he stayed as quiet as possible, giving them a wide berth lest he attract their attention in the pitch black and redirect their ire upon him.

* * *

Feral was still holding Switch's hand, running her thumb in small circles over her skin in an uncharacteristically nervous gesture when he told her that he was going down fighting. "Shitfuck," she cursed out loud.

Madden kept calling her name. "Teva, Teva, what's going on? Let me out, let me out, let me up. Come on, Teva. I'm fine. Really. I'm fine."

"Shut up!" she snapped back at him.

He started yelling curses at her in Arabic.

"Lalala! I can't hear you!" she shouted over his booming voice. "Lalala! I'm gonna shoot you! Lalala! Laaaa lala!" Her voice was still strangled and scratchy, her throat too abused to maintain that volume.

Ghost started stirring. That fucker had almost _killed _her. Without even a moment's pause, she hit him again with the butt of her weapon. Frankly, she didn't particularly care if he had a headache later...or brain damage. Served him right. You don't choke a Teva out.

Madden was still trying to convince her that he was alright, that it was perfectly okay to let him loose.

She was about to get up and knock his ass out too when the door to the file room creaked open, making her reconsider. Hidden, it was impossible to see who had entered. Teva readied her weapon, gently setting Switch's hand down. She got to her feet very carefully, still crouching down.

Footsteps shuffled closer. "Teva?" Red called out loud.

She sighed in relief, shoulders going limp. Feral lowered her weapon, but didn't put it away. Stepping out, she snapped, "About fucking time," in her new, super-sexy rasp.

It was an act of will to not do something really embarrassing like leap at Red and demand hugs. Teva was... She hesitated to say 'shaken' at the risk of sounding like some silly damsel in distress. She had always been aware her entire life what kind of dangers a pretty girl living in the ghetto faced. Stalkers, rapists, muggers, murderers; all of them were very real threats. As a pretty child who had always been a bit on the lean and willowy side, she had learned to be cautious, to be aware of her surroundings, watchful of others.

The discovery of her skill as an adept had made her careless, she decided. Ghost never should have gotten the drop on her like that. She knew something wasn't right, and yet she had ignored what her gut was telling her. She had forgotten the cardinal rule of the school of hard knocks: don't trust anybody. Nine times out of ten the blow that was going to kill you was going to come from a knife in the back.

When she'd first begun Running, Teva had been wary of others, fresh from the streets, rubbed raw by tragedy. She had been jagged and impossible to befriend. Time had dulled the edges, she supposed. Hell, what had taken Madden five years to accomplish, Will had achieved in the span of a few weeks. The discrepancy was obvious, just as the fact that the only thing that had changed in that time was her; _reckless, weak_.

She used to have nightmares about being attacked when she was younger, about being held down, unable to fight back, about a violation that took her breath away and brought tears of shame and rage to her eyes. Teva had them a lot when she started Running. It was part of the reason that she, like Switch, had never worked with the same team twice, not in those early days. She wanted them to know as little about her as possible, to fly in and out of their lives. Time had made her sloppy...or maybe it was the power. Maybe it was just her.

What had happened with Ghost was just too close to that nightmare for her to remain unaffected. Suddenly she was twelve years old again, and the fire hydrant got hit by a drunk driver. The water rocketed up, and the neighborhood kids cheered, got in their swimsuits, and played in the streets. The cool droplets on her skin were a blessing, and she raised her arms up, spun in circles, and somewhere in the dizzying dervish she saw Mr. Thompson looking at her. She stopped dancing, and stared. Something about the look in his eyes wasn't right. When it finally hit her just what it was, Teva turned and ran back home. He'd looked at her the way Teva had seen her mother's clients look at dark-haired, pale-skinned, built-like-a-dancer Nathalia Dalca. She remembered being fourteen, and looking up at Jones, kneeling like a Catholic at mass, his smile a sickening thing that crawled in her guts and left her feeling like she ought to unzip her skin because there was something wrong with it; sixteen, and fucking a man old enough to be her father; nineteen, and going home with a stranger in a club because he had a nice laugh and fed her the good drugs (it could have been rape, it might have been rape; she'd blacked out); twenty-one, and forced to play the girl-bait on a Run, dancing on a pole (the most humiliating thing she'd ever done), taking the target to a champagne room, and letting him... She'd made him pay for the pleasure in pounds of flesh. No one on the team tried to stop her, even though the mage they'd used had a truth spell in his arsenal.

"What did you do?" Rip asked, though there was little accusation in her voice as she knelt to examine the unconscious and wounded infiltration expert, merely curiosity, and a professional, clinical urgency.

"Uh, I pegged him with Clint's laser-"

"Clint?" she queried.

"The drone," Teva tipped her chin at the shelf.

"Ah."

"Oh, and I," the adept cleared her throat, trying to sound a little less injured, "I pummeled his midsection quite a bit. Then I slammed the back of his head against the ground a few times. When he started waking up, I pistol-whipped him."

"Mm," Rip hummed, no judgment in her tone. The very neutrality of it though said that the medic didn't feel it was alright to voice an opinion on the matter. It was the careful physician's tone, the one they used in the E.R. on men who came in with wounds they got during the course of beating their wives senseless, and the bitches had the nerve to fight back.

Teva looked to Red for understanding. "He came at me! What the hell else was I supposed to do?"

"He came at you?" the shaman repeated, stepping closer. Awkwardly mitted hands reached out, and Teva skittishly backed away. It wasn't something she'd done consciously, and she was embarrassed by the weakness. When Red's hands moved forward again she forced herself to stay still. The alien feel of the haz-mat gloves on her skin made her shiver. She swallowed as Red tipped up her chin, and took a look at the ring of bruises forming around her throat, the color a violet-red that was sure to deepen to an impressive range of violets and indigo soon. The frown on his face looked as though it was carving a new expression on his usually serene visage. "That looks bad," he commented quietly. "I'll heal it."

"Save your magic," Teva rasped. "Who knows what else we might need you to do before we get out of this hellmouth?"

Red gazed at her for a long moment before he sighed, rubber clad fingers trailing down her neck and across her shoulders.

She stepped away deliberately, saying, "You should check on Madden." There was a plea underneath her tone that warned 'don't be nice to me right now; I need to be strong, and I'm already too close to being weak.'

Madden was singing now, something that sounded kind of like a sea shanty, if sea shanties were written about bees pollenating in the summertime. Teva assumed it was a metaphor for sex; _everything_ was _always _a metaphor for sex.

He must have gotten the message, because Red nodded and left her alone, and she went back to Switch, leaning against the wall in an exhaustion borne not of any physical cause, but things that were more intangible.

Rip was shaking her head. "You really did a number on him," she commented.

"Yeah, well, my give-a-damn's busted," Teva shot back coldly.

The elven mage didn't say anything else, apparently deciding that silence was a more prudent tactic.

* * *

"Yes!"

Switch smiled through his pain as the bull spun around, tripping again as the ground assault drones worked at taking out its legs. Between the sudden buck and the lightening and laser shots continually coming from the flight team, The Rider lost his balance on the bull's back. He flew off, hitting the ground hard, the aerial crew pursuing without pause.

The loss of the bull's master wound up being a curse in disguise. With no one keeping it under any semblance of control, the beast flew into a blind rage. Kicking out wildly, it knocked Steve across the room and was able to shake off the Hulk's crushing grip as it slammed itself against a wall. Spotting Switch, the red eyes lit up so bright that they were nearly blinding, a testament to its new, wild insanity. It had found a target to lock onto.

"Oh, shit," Will whispered. He turned to run, once again aiming for the door. "Avengers attack! The bull! Everyone attack the bull!"

The little drones regrouped and turned their full assault onto the animal, but it was now beyond feeling pain. _Just like that guy in the street._

Bleeding, limping, with red-tinted froth pouring out from the beast's nostrils and mouth, it ran on despite the damage it was taking. Switch, slowed down by his own collection of injuries, didn't stand a chance, and he knew it. Reaching into his pocket, he palmed another little bomb and set the timer for the second when the bull would be on him. Hearing the hoof beats catching up, he spun around on his heels and shoved the bomb into one of the glowing eye sockets even as one of the bull's horns drove through his shoulder on his already-damaged arm. The bomb exploded inside the creature's head, dropping it to its knees. Driven forward by the momentum gathered in the beast's massive bulk, it pushed Switch right through the door he'd been trying so hard to reach, its other horn getting jammed up against the frame. The sudden stop threw Switch backwards to the floor, and he had just enough energy to pick his head up to see the red eyes dim out.

He'd killed it. The Rider was still alive; he could feel the jam still cutting him off from his ability to log out, but half the IC was dead. That would weaken it significantly, along with the damage it took from the drones. That would keep it off his back for a little while.

Even better, the wall getting ready to shift again would keep it away from him for good. Seeing the door tremble slightly in the frame, Switch weakly called the drones back to him. They made it out just in time, and he let his head fall back against the floor in relief that he was safe.

For now.

Two was almost out when the bull hit Switch. The new pain shot through him with such intensity that he almost expected to see a gaping hole appear in _this_body as he fell down against the ropes. He didn't even try to stop himself, knowing he'd fail. As he felt the floor give way below him at the trap's trigger, he did the only thing he had the energy left to do - with his good hand, he gripped the rope closest to him, twisting it around his wrist the best he could as it pulled out of the rock wall on one side. It swung him forward as he fell, slamming him against the far wall of the pit that had formed below him. If he'd still had both arms, he could've climbed that rope and pulled himself out, continuing on his merry way to the treasure. In pain, his grip weakening, instead he had to settle for doing his best to twist his body so that when he fell to the spikes below, he might be able to hit that gap between them and the wall to keep the damage focused on only his right side. At least that way maybe his other alts could still function on some level.

He barely registered the new pain as he landed, his body spent from everything else. One spike drilled a deep gouge into his side, catching the elbow of the bound arm and ripping right through the tendons and cartilage in the joint. A second one drove through his leg just above his kneecap, and a third clipped him low at his ankle. Breathing heavily, he lay perfectly still and stared up at the top of the pit before his eyelids began to grow incredibly heavy.

"Don't pass out," he mumbled to himself.

"Don't you _fucking_ pass out," Three repeated from where he lay on the floor in a lab room, the next lever enclosed in a glass case just a few feet in front of him.

"Stay awake, princess," One ground out, laying on his back and peering up at the screen where he'd finally located Phantom's guys.

"Stay the _fuck_ awake!" Four hissed, kicking his good foot against the chair that he had fallen out of.

_"Don't let me pass out,"_ Switch desperately sent out to anyone who might've been listening. _"Jesus, don't let me...don't let..." _Despite his protests, an unwelcome darkness began to shutter out his vision. Shaking his head, feeling the fight to stay conscious slip away, he whispered out, _"I'm sorry, guys. I tried..."_

* * *

"Shit!" Rip shouted, eyes wide as her head whipped to stare at Switch's passive body.

"Wake him up!" Red yelled a few aisles over.

"Get me a stim patch!" Teva yelped back, curving her hands over Switch's shoulders and shaking his limp, unresisting body back and forth. _"Wake up, wake up, wake up!"_ she yelled both out loud and with her comm. _"Stay awake, Switch! Up, up! Things to do! Conquer the nets!"_

Red was running. Damn, you knew shit was rough when Red _ran _anywhere. "Here!" he barked, a stim patch in his rubber-gloved hand.

Teva ripped the packaging off. Where to stick it? Where to...? She jerked up his shirt, hoping it didn't fuck up his connection too badly, and slapped the patch over his heart. It would absorb through the skin, and reach the vital organ faster, thus flooding his entire body with that much more alacrity. She pulled his shirt back down again, and noticed absently that while she was doing that, Red had taken over the job of yelling at Switch. She almost crossed her fingers. Instead, she squeezed his hand in hers.

* * *

Switch sat up straight, inhaling a deep, startled breath. He cried it back out a half second later as he fell back against the ground, pressing his hand against the hole that went all the way through his shoulder and shuddering at the new pain in his elbow, side, and leg that amazingly enough _weren't _caused by this persona's visible injuries.

"Shit," he gasped, wondering at his suddenly racing heartbeat.

_Stim patch_, his ever-so-helpful inner voice supplied. He'd used them before, but fuck if this wasn't the most potent stim treatment he'd ever experienced.

Reconnecting with his body, he felt Teva's hand in his and squeezed it. Something filtered into his brain, pulled from something she must've shouted at him while he was out of it. _"It's not...the nets..."_ he said weakly between shallow breaths in both the comm and out loud, though his real voice came out in just a ghost of a whisper.

* * *

Teva let out a little huff of laughter when Switch twitched, his hand tightening on hers, wheezing out that her terminology was wrong. Relief flooded her. He wasn't unconscious, yay! He was, however, pretty fucking injured if his voice was any indication. _"It's whatever I fucking say it is,"_she teased in reply.

Then she tilted her head, looking up at Red. "I am so fucking pissed the fuck off right now."

* * *

"Phantom," One nearly shouted as he came to. "Good news. Looks like your team got adopted. They're in a secure zone with the rest of the asshole corpses. Bunch of dumbass hens invited the foxes straight into the hen house.

There was a long pause before Phantom answered. When he did, his voice seemed strained. It was clear he wasn't fairing too much better than The Liberator was at the moment.

_"Good...that's good. And you, Will, you're-"_

"Gonna stay right here on the floor where it's comfortable. I can see everyone just fine from here."

"Fuck you, lazy fuck," Three bit out to One. He then took over the conversation with Phantom. "I can see the next lever. I'll get there."

_"Will."_

"I can fucking do it. I'm right here, goddammit."

Clenching his teeth, The Liberator used his left arm and leg to drag himself the few feet across the floor to the case. Using the wall as leverage, he managed to awkwardly get himself up on his good foot and used the folded up Lance to smash the glass. Vaguely wondering what sort of trap this lever would trigger, he pulled it down and promptly let himself slide down the wall to the floor, waiting for whatever was coming at him.

Four let out a pained, frustrated growl as the chair rolled to the side again, dropping him back down to the floor. It _had _to be a fucking rolling chair, didn't it?

Tired of fucking around, he unfolded just the blade part of his Lance and stabbed it down through one of the chair legs, pinning it in place. Smiling slightly in victory, he grabbed the chair arm and hauled himself up, using his good leg to turn himself so he was sitting in it as properly as he could considering the whole right side of his body was pretty much dead. And on fire.

Ignoring the pain for now, and just letting the adrenaline from the patch rush through him, he yanked his blade from the floor and shoved it back in its home on his cargos, then used his good foot to walk the chair close to the screen again. Now all he had to do was sit there and wait for someone to give him something to do.

Two blinked several times before coming to the conclusion that he had to move. He _needed _to see if there were override directions in those files. He was the only one in the right place to do it.

Holding his breath, he sat up in one quick motion, wrenching his arm free of the metal spike. He managed to hold back the scream, but bit his tongue in the process, another of those annoying things he felt carry over to his physical body. He spat the blood out of his mouth, forgetting that it would only splatter up against his mask in real time. Not that it mattered. It was better that than choke on it.

He looked at his leg, pondering for a minute over how he was going to get it free. Sliding it up off the top of the spike wouldn't be an option, not with its height and the angle he was at. If the spike were shorter, though...

With a few quick blasts from his laser gun, the damn thing sure as hell _became _shorter, and Liberator was eternally grateful that his ankle had merely been sliced wide open as opposed to also getting the impalement treatment. Even with the metal cut down short, getting his leg free of it was almost painful enough to send him back to oblivion, patch and all.

He briefly wondered if he was squeezing Feral's hand as tight he imagined he was, or screaming as loudly in reality as the echoing around the cave walls told him he had been. Probably not. Things tended not to translate with quite the same levels of intensity as they held in the Matrix.

And he was rambling. That was a Will thing, not a Liberator thing. Not that it was really unexpected. He was bleeding profusely from several different holes and chunks taken out of his body, in this persona _and _Switch's. Something like that could definitely take the edge out of a guy.

_"Good thing you can't bleed to death inside the Matrix," _he laughed, not even realizing he had relayed that one out loud as he remained partially focused on the real world, on Feral's hand in his.

* * *

She glared at Red as Switch's message came through, and the look was unintentionally accusatory. "He is in there fighting for his life right now, and we're hiding in the file room. What the fuck, Red? We need to get out of here. Fuck the Run."

Red sighed, and went to rub at the sinus cavities above his eyebrow, his telltale gesture of irritation. His hand collided with the mask, and that just deepened his malcontentment with the situation. "I'm aware. Rip, how's the healing going?"

"Almost...done..." she said slowly, then sat back as Ghost woke up blinking.

"Madden too," the other elf reminded her.

Rip stood up, and went to find the troll.

Ghost rolled to his hands and knees, apparently still feeling a little worn out. He shook his head, and his eyes landed on Feral. Behind the mask, they widened. "Oh, shit. Feral, I'm so sorry, you have no idea..." He made some kind of aborted movement toward her; it became aborted when she pulled her gun on him and took the safety off.

"If you come near me, I will put one in you. No fucking joke," she growled, her rasp making the phrase sound even more brutal.

Hands up, Ghost backed up. "No problem. That's perfectly understandable, I guess. Just...just know that I'm sorry."

Red's eyes flickered back and forth between the two of them, and he knew there was a huge part of the story that Teva hadn't covered in her clipped explanation of 'he came at me.' The reaction was disproportionate, even for her. He added it to the list of guilts and shames that he carried on his heart. Whatever had put that terrible fragility in her eyes was all his fault.

"Just do your fucking job, and stay the fuck away from me," Teva snapped, and put up her gun, turning back to Switch decisively.

* * *

You couldn't, really - bleed to death, that is. You could hurt like hell, die from mental shock, but not just straight up experience the slow-or quick, depending on whether an artery was hit or not-death that accompanied bleeding out. He could sit there all fucking day, watching red just pump out all over the place, and it wouldn't kill him. He could fill a fucking pool with the stuff.

Well, at least that's how it worked on cold sim. He had no fucking clue if he could bleed to death in hot.

_Will, focus. You have to get out of the hole._

Sighing, he slowly began to unwind the cable from around his body, letting his mangled arm flop down to his side. He reattached the grappling hook head to the wire and cocked it in the launcher.

As he took aim, he thought about how much he fucking hurt, and about bleeding to death, and what might happen with his real body when he logged out, and about 'Carn, whose fault this was and who he really wanted to-

_"Feral, when we get out of here, I need you to teach me how to punch a fucking asshole in the face."_

He fired the grappling hook and felt it latch onto the wall overhead. If he was going to bleed to death, he wasn't doing it down in that goddamn pit.

* * *

Switch interrupted their little drama with his pithy words, full of irritation. Teva understood the feeling all too well. Laughing, she squeezed his hand. _"Done. I will even give you a free demo using whomever's raised your ire this high."_

With an inaudible sigh, Red turned to Ghost. "Let's start looking through those files. Maybe we can find some information on just what the hell happened here."

* * *

Will laughed as he got Feral's reply, and was dragged up over the edge of the pit, letting the grappling hook do all the work while he simply held on for dear life. Once safely on the ground, he lay there for a few minutes, the dust and sand blowing up around his face in little puffs as he continued to chuckle at the mental image of 'Carn getting his nose broken by Feral's fist. He felt kind of giddy for some reason...probably a combination of bleeding shit out while the stim was pumping shit in. That made him laugh, too, like a gunshot victim being hooked up to an IV full of crack instead of blood. He was running on crack.

But that thought still wasn't as funny as watching 'Carn get his ass kicked.

He slowly began to drag himself over towards the wall so he could get up on his one leg, rambling as he went just to keep his mind busy.

_"Road trip to DeeCee to hit a guy. Sounds awesome. Punch him twice if I die in here."_ A thought occurred to him and he shook his head. _"Don't kill him, though. Wouldn't have gotten this far if it weren't for him. None of us would... Red and Rip, they'd probably be getting fucked by sex zombies...or maybe smashed to nothing in the bottom of an elevator shaft. Did I apologize for that? Sorry again, just in case."_ He giggled as he hauled himself up to what would have to pass as standing against the cave wall. _"I dropped you because I had to blow up my arm. It's okay, though. It's still attached."_ Switch/Two looked at it, his eyes tracing the gory hole in his shoulder down to the wreck that was his upper arm, then down to the fact that it now looked like his forearm was only staying attached by some simple flesh and muscle where his elbow used to be. He laughed again and whispered, _"I don't think the docs can save it."_ Perking up, he took one tentative hop/shuffle forward to test out his movement. _"It's fine, though, really. I can use my left hand just as well. I went for days without my right when I was sixteen, did you know that? I don't think I told you that story, did I, Feral? I don't remember... It got blown off in a beetle." _He frowned as he hopped along, dragging his dead leg behind him. _"I fucking hate Hot sim. Ya know what? Punch 'Carn three times, okay? Changing someone's sim without their permission is not cool...fucking dick."_

Will/Liberator One looked at the screen to the file room and saw Ghost reading through things, a look on his face like he was both ashamed and about to throw up at the same time. Red looked like he _had_ been helping, but was now standing there looking really concerned for some reason. Probably about his babbling. It didn't matter. _"Hey, if you find anything in there about overriding the override, let me know, okay? I'm trying to find it in here, but I'm having some...technical difficulties. Turns out trying to take on an AI the size of a fucking building is not easy."_

Three sat in a rising pool of water beneath the lever, trying to will himself to get up, wondering if he could get the door to open even if he _could_ get up. _"Better find it fast before I drown in here. If nothing else, we can tell Phantom, and maybe he and the technos can get everybody else out."_

Four laughed as he toggled some lights and messed with some doors, pretty much just fucking with the infected in his boredom while he waited for someone to give him something to do. _"Oops, dumbass, you weren't supposed to mention Phantom. Oh well, cat's out of the bag now. Don't worry, everyone, if I die in here, I've got back-up! Phantom will save you! Oh, but only if we get those technos free...and find the override info. Should probably do that before I drown...or something. Can I get another stim patch? That stuff is gooood."_

* * *

Feral shot Red a look that said clear as day that she was growing increasingly displeased with Will's disjointed monologue. Unfortunately, he had his back turned to her, flipping through the file contents with Ghost. They didn't look pleased with what they were finding.

Then Switch mentioned someone named Phantom, and Red stopped what he was doing entirely.

_"Wait, wait, wait..." _Teva drawled.

At the same time Red cut her off with a quick, _"What do you mean, you have back-up? Is there another Runner team in the facility?" _

Madden lumbered over casually, released from his bonds by Rip, who was trailing behind him with the remains of the first aid kit. "Surprised you didn't just shoot me when I started with the rambling," he rumbled.

Feral shot him a grim smile that told him it had been a close call, then looked at the medic. "Can he have another stim patch? It sounds like he might need it. I mean, he did blow off his arm." She realized she was kind of fluttering over Switch like a worried mama bird, but he was like...he just was, and she was all off-kilter, and _goddammit_ she just wanted a fucking hug. Or to kill somebody.

"Not a good plan," Rip responded shortly.

_"Switch, what is the other team doing here?" _Red asked in his tightly-leashed-anger voice.

* * *

_"The _team_ is standing in a secure area blending in with the corpses. Dumb fucks."_ Three laughed as he used various pieces of furniture inside the room to pull himself towards the door, allowing his body to float along behind him. The water made moving around _soooo_much easier. Maybe the whole drowning trap wasn't such a bad thing, after all. He could just glide right over to the door, tag a bunch of bombs to it, let 'em blow, hope he didn't blow off any other part of his body in the process, and flow with the tide right out into the hall. Hell, maybe it would just wash him right along all the way to the next lever. That'd be awesome.

_"And Phantom is in here with me, probably getting his ass kicked somewhere,"_ Two answered as he continued through the cave. He came to a stop at yet another trap, this one just a bunch of huge axe things swinging in a timed sequence. _"Uh oh. What do you think the odds are of me getting through a bunch of pendulum axes with only one leg? Probably not good. Fuck that, I'm just going shoot the fuckers down."_ He leaned his shoulder against the wall to keep himself upright and awkwardly aimed his gun, firing up a million times at the joints in the system. The first huge blade dropped down into the dirt, embedding itself halfway into the ground. _"Good news! I _can_ shoot them down! It's probably gonna suck climbing over them, though. Oh well, you do what you gotta do, right?"_

Idly flipping through the screen closest to him, One giggled as he watched the infected run into yet another door that Four was fucking with. _"Are there extra masks?"_ he seemed to ask out of nowhere. _"Maybe you guys can go rescue the technos in the basement since the other team is stuck schmoozing with the bigwigs. You don't want them infected, though. Infected technos in the system would be scary as fuck. I don't think they could help rescue you guys anymore if that happened. It's really not fair to leave them in there though, especially since Phantom and I are trying so hard to get their brains back online so they can save everyone. We need that to happen."_

_"Can't crash the crazy Horizon node without them,"_ Four sing-songed as he hit another light switch. It turned off the lights in the file room. _"Woops, wrong button. Sorry. You guys need to see."_ He flipped the lights back on. _"That would be good, getting you out, getting the technos out, getting Phantom's team out. I don't think I'm getting out. The Rider's still got me. Dumpshock is going to suuuuuuck."_

Three got his bombs in place. _"I...need to blow up something else so I don't drown, and maybe go pull another lever. If I don't talk anymore after this, I probably hurt myself again. I'll try not to do that."_

He set the timers and pushed himself off the wall, gaining as much distance as he could before the things exploded. When they blew, the shockwave slammed him back against the far wall, then he was pulled immediately towards the door again as the water rushed out into the hall. He was deposited onto the floor, choking out water.

_"Good news, again,"_ he coughed. _"I'm not going to drown, and I didn't blow off anything else. Go, sprite! Lead the way to the next lever! I'm just gonna...Hey, slow down. I can't drag myself that fast."_

* * *

Feral sighed, and rubbed the back of her neck as she thought. "Well, there goes the hopeful thought of having any sort of physical back-up."

"Yes, my thoughts exactly," Red agreed._ "And just what do you mean we have to go rescue some technos? I am...very displeased."_ Switching to a private communication, he told Feral directly, _"We are going to talk about this later. You vouched for him; I don't like working with people whose motives are unclear, Teva. You know that." _

Refusing to look at him as he chastised her, Feral replied, _"I didn't know." _

_"Not an excuse. You vetted him; if I'm responsible for Ghost, you're responsible for Switch. Your paranoia puts most people's to shame; you must have suspected something," _he volleyed back. His eyes were glacial, lips set into a firm, thin line.

Unable to evade that logic, Teva stared at the ground. Finally, she ground out, _"Later." _

_"Later," _Red agreed.

"Rip," Ghost called, "Can you help me decipher some of this medical jargon?"

With a nod, she walked over to the files, swiping whatever he was reading out of his hands.

Opening their communication back up to the team, including Switch, Red repeated,_ "So you need us to free the technos so that you all can crash the node, and take back control of the building? Where are they, and how many masks do we need?"_

_"And Switch,"_ Feral added on a private line, _"Just a note: we're going to discuss forthrightness between comrades-in-arms after we get out of here. Probably on the plane to D.C. because I guarantee you that you and I have just taken second and third prize for People Red Wants to Maim."_

* * *

Will tripped on his way over the third axe and fell to the ground with an _oof! _Rolling himself over onto his back, he decided it would be good to just lay there for a little bit, take a little break before tackling that next axe. His hand reached over to feel the gouge in his side that lay just under his ribcage, frowning as his fingers slicked along bone at the top of the wound.

"Should probably wrap that...and everything else..."

_Will, people are talking to you._

Red was asking him questions, and Feral was...lecturing him?

_"Oh, I'm sorry,"_ he snapped out on the public line, not registering the attempts at keeping the issue private. He was having a hard time registering much of anything at the moment. _"I didn't know it was against the rules to help out the only real friend I've ever had, the kind of guy who wouldn't...wouldn't talk someone down from the ledge just to shoot them with a fucking tranq and take them to the fucking butchers. Forthrightness, my ass. Fuck, they were just riding my hack. And helping us. And in case you somehow forgot, it was our Run that fucked up theirs, so I don't think anyone has a right to complain here except for them. Fuck you guys."_

He turned to push himself back up, but wound up just falling back to his side. Sighing, his anxious energy expelled on his tirade, he sniffed and blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. He wasn't going to cry, not in here, not out there. He was done crying.

_"Three,"_ he breathed out quietly in an increasingly rare moment of clarity. _"There's three technos down in the north wing of the basement. Horizon was experimenting on them like lab rats...we were going to free them. That's what Phantom and I normally do - rescue the Emerged. No one should be used like..."_ Shaking his head, he clenched his jaw and forced himself back up, latching on to the next axe handle before he could fall back to the ground again. _"Look, Phantom and I can just turn off their machines. We can get them online now so they can fix this shit, get you guys out, and maybe Phantom can come back for them later. You don't need to do anything. Just sit tight and we'll get you out. I promise, we'll get you out."_

He smiled as he got over the last obstacle and spotted the doorway to the treasure room ahead of him. Once he got in there, the only thing left to do would be to scan those files, send them to Phantom, and pull that other lever. Then he'd be done, and it wouldn't matter who was mad at him anymore because he probably wouldn't make it out of there alive anyway. He'd do his job, get his people out, and then he'd be done.

* * *

Feral ground her teeth the entire time Switch was monologuing, not only because he was doing in on the public channel, but because he was bringing up shit she'd thought was already ancient history. Plus..._ "I don't give a flying fuck if you help save your friends, the oppressed, or entire fucking countries. Good for fucking you! Must be real nice sitting up on your high horse looking down on the rest of us who just want to get paid and go home alive; you must feel so goddamn self-righteous, _avortonule. _The point is not that you decided to fucking_ lie_ to me, lie to _my team, my _friends; it is that your lies were unnecessary. Perhaps if you had told us the truth, we could have been able to coordinate with the other team that was here, and help each other out...or at least left us with some awareness that we were not your top priority, which is usually the basic expectation when one cuts you in a job-for the duration, you become their top priority. _

_"Furthermore, I tranquilized you because you needed medical attention, and refused to seek it voluntarily. Since apparently I do have a greater sense of professional loyalty, I made an executive decision to have you seen to by a professional so that you were not a liability on the job. By the way, you owe Madden and I twelve-thousand two-hundred nuyen because we were nice enough to take you somewhere reputable. However, if you are really that displeased with my interference, by all means, I can _rectify _my_ egregious _overstepping of boundaries._

_"Don't talk to me about _loyalty_ or _friendship," she bit off each word deliberately. _"I have so very few that I tend to be extremely possessive of them. I asked you...I fucking asked you directly why you'd had that sudden change of heart, and you _lied_ to me. That...is neither loyalty nor friendship. It's not even respect."_

Rant over, Teva turned on her heel and headed for the door. "Madden, with me," she ordered. "Show me where you found those gas masks. Red, if you'd like to do something other than sit here with your thumb up your ass, you can come too."

"And us?" Rip wanted to know.

"Watch the fucker's meatsuit. Or don't. What the fuck do I care?" Feral called out lightly.

* * *

"You _were _the priority," Will mumbled as he stumbled into the treasure room. It wasn't worth arguing over anymore. She wouldn't understand, anyway. It was just like he thought - she'd never see him as anything more than just the spoiled corpse kid who got everything he ever wanted. She would never understand why someone like him would have trust issues, why he would just assume doing anything other than what was expected of him would be looked at with disdain, why he cringed at the thought of asking for anything extra. He would never have the right to complain about his problems, about how lonely he'd always been, about the things that made him hurt, because no matter how bad it had been for him it was never as bad as the people on the street had it. He simply didn't have the right to feel anything other than grateful for what he had. That was his place, it was always his place, and he had been an idiot to let himself forget that for a time.

Well, that was fine. He wouldn't be anyone's problem for much longer anyway.

As he reached the ancient book with its golden pages he pulled it off the pedestal and allowed himself to fall to the ground.

"Phantom, I've got the files. I'm uploading them now."

He got a simple nod in return, after which he simply flipped through the pages. He didn't read anything, didn't need to. His snapshot memory was enough to capture the information.

In a dark room, Three stood by waiting to pull his lever, wanting to be certain all the info was transferred to Phantom before he triggered the last trap.

Four quit messing with the infected as One kept an eye on where his team was going. He needed to be ready to open doors if they got into trouble before the technos could regain control of the system and take over his post.

And Switch shuddered as he heard a child singing in the hall. "Come out, come out wherever you are."

The other child responded. "Ready or not, here I come."

Switch could hear the giggles of The Twins coming closer, their childish laughter sending a chill up his spine. If The Rider had sounded hollow, their mirth was overflowing with eager menace. He needed to move before they found him.

_"I need another patch," _he gasped as he tried to get up, finding it increasingly harder to perform even basic functions.

_"You've already had one, Switch; you could overdose," _Rip informed him, the slight sound of apology in her voice.

He was about to beg when Stealthwing suddenly appeared by his side. "They weren't falling for the decoys anymore. I think they smelled the blood," he explained as he hooked Switch's good arm over his shoulder. "Up you go. Trust me, you do _not _want them to catch you."

Switch did his best to get his working leg under him, weakly hopping along as his agent practically carried him down the hall. "What are we dealing with?" he panted, not sure if he really wanted to know the answer.

"Oh man, they're fucked up! They can crawl up on the walls like spiders, and they have these _teeth_! They bite you, you're in trouble. The boy? He seems to feed on fear, and the girl..." He shuddered. "Little freak likes the pain."

Switch didn't like the sound of that at all and did his best to pick up his pace a little. "Program terms. What happens if they bite you?"

Stealthwing looked at him, worry in his eyes. "Black Nights. They're both Black Night programs."

Behind them there was a skittering sound on the wall followed by that eerie laughter. "Found youuuu."

In the treasure room Two flipped the pages a little faster. Three clenched his fingers on the lever a little tighter. He had no doubt The Twins would catch him. Now it was just a matter of winning the race - he _had_ to at least finish his tasks. He wasn't going to break his promise. Mad at him or not, he was getting his people out of there.

Looking over his shoulder, Switch realized very quickly that they weren't going to be fast enough. Where the kids had merely been slowly crawling the first time he'd seen them, they were...skittering (the best descriptor he could come up with) along now, effortlessly moving from the floor to the wall and back again. Their eyes had darkened completely to a solid black, their mouths open to reveal sharp points on all their teeth.

The thought occurred to him that they had been toying with him from the very start. The first encounter was to get him to run, to get him to play their twisted little games. Shit, for all he knew they _wanted_him to bump into The Rider first. But now they were done playing. The hunger in those onyx eyes and the way their jaws snapped as they closed the distance told him as much.

"Stop, stop," he ordered Stealthwing. "Put me down. Go on offensive mode. Now!"

The agent did as told immediately and went on the attack against The Twins. The simple program wouldn't last long against the IC, but with the drones added into the fray, Switch figured he could probably slow down his demise at least long enough for his alts to do what they were supposed to be doing. Hell, maybe he could even stall long enough to get himself logged out.

The girl leaped from one wall to the other, snatching Tony out of the air and crushing him against the wall as she landed.

_Maybe not, _he thought, and worked on just dragging his failing body further from the fight.

"Done!" Two almost laughed with relief as he slammed the book shut and simply fell over onto his side, giddy at the notion of having finished his task and hoping there actually _was _something in the files that Phantom could use. If not, all this would've been completely for nothing.

He _did _laugh at that concept.

Three pulled the lever down quickly, and half a second later found himself lying on his back in the middle of the floor, stunned. It took a second for his brain to register the shock that had just coursed through him, this one _much _larger than the little bit of a jolt he'd taken from his fried decoder when this whole mess had started.

_"Breathe, Switch, come on."_

At Rip's insistence he thought for an extra second before he could remember how to make his lungs draw in air, taking a shallow breath at first before making himself take another longer, deeper one. The oxygen brought with it renewed awareness, drawing attention to the fact that his good hand didn't feel so good anymore, his chest hurt in the aftermath of that much electricity passing through it, and the nearly pitch black room was now being illuminated in a bluish glow as lightening danced across the walls. It started at the lever and snaked its way throughout the room, the blue branches wrapping their tendrils around various metal rods sticking out all along the walls and ceiling. Unable to do anything but lay there, his eyes widened as the circuit was complete, and one of the rods shot out its first bolt of white lightening.

It was coming straight for him.

Switch lost temporary control of his limbs as the shock tore through Three, causing him to fall limp to the floor. His left hand flared up with the heat of the burn Three had taken, and for several seconds all he could do was lay there, trying to regain control, and gasping in pain. Hearing that familiar skittering behind him, he used his forearm on his left side to roll himself onto his back so he could see down the hall. The girl had slipped past the battle and was coming at him with frightening speed. Shutting his eyes, the only thing he could do was hold his arm over his face in a useless, but instinctual protective manner, and wait for the bite to come.

It didn't. Instead, there was a rush of movement and the sound of a small body impacting the wall. Switch opened his eyes to see that Stealthwing had intervened just in time, and was now struggling to keep the girl at bay while the remaining drones worked at subduing the boy.

"Keep going," his sidekick grunted as the girl thrashed against him. "I'll hold her as long as I can."

Not needing to be told twice, Switch rolled back onto his left side and did his best to use that leg and arm to continue dragging himself away, trying to keep his burning hand off the floor.

* * *

**TBC …**


	10. Chapter 10

Murphy's Law

Chapter 10

* * *

Fandom: Shadowrun

Pairings: Mostly Gen with a dash of Feral/Red for your angsty delights, oh, and some brief Feral/Ghost

Rating: R

Warnings: violence, gore, mentions of cannibalism, homosexuality, rape, attempted rape, insanity

Archive: Ask

Author: Alex Kade and Lily Zen

* * *

Notes: One more chapter after this one, then it's all over.

Disclaimer: Shadowrun belongs to Shadowrun peoples. Original characters belong to us.

* * *

Madden took them to an old storage room located in the docking bays. The entrances that the trucks would have come in through to park were closed, metal doors slammed and locked into place just like every other door in this place. The van from Sterling Contractors sat parked, waiting, ready for escape. They walked right past it, and Madden opened an old olive green door, clicking on a light switch. There, tucked underneath a supply shelf was a cardboard box labeled in slanted, shaky handwriting 'in case of emergency.'

"I assume we're going to free the technomancers?" Red drawled behind them. He'd moved silently, catching up to them in no time at all.

"We're not just going to leave them here," Feral snapped. "Besides, have you got something better to do?"

"Not at all," was his aloof reply, and he knelt, hooking three straps through his fingers, yanking out the gas masks. "However, I should point out that I don't have any weapons."

"Madden, give him a pistol," she stated, knowing from the distinctive bulges on the troll's body that he had to be packing underneath those coveralls.

"Sure," he agreed, propping his huge sneaker up on a shelf, and jerking up his pant leg to reveal an ankle holster. He jerked out a Fubuki, handing it over to the elf. "Be careful with her; Mai's my newest baby."

With a little grin, Red nodded. He left the safety on, playing with the grip until he found a way to hold it without the haz-mat suit gloves getting in the way.

"Okay," Feral nodded, filing back out the door. _"Rip, what do we know about this drug so far?"_

_"P96 was originally developed as a massive mellowing agent. Upon discovering a small percentage had adverse reactions, they repurposed it for offensive military maneuvers. Basically what it does is knock down every wall in our minds that tells us what impulses we should and shouldn't act on. It triggers a variety of psychoses in subjects though common manifestations are found to be violence toward the self and others. Other reactions include sexual violence, cannibalism, hallucinations... There's a very slim margin of the population that's immune and-slash-or resistant to the drug. Essentially the scientists took the percentiles of the first trial and flipped the results around. That may explain why you were unaffected even though you and the other team were on the same floor, therefore you should have been infected with the gas as well. Hm, now I'm wondering if Switch inhaled some..." _

_"How do we make it go away?"_Red asked.

_"The drug is cycled out of the body typically within twelve hours of inhalation. I hope the building's air filtration system is doing that, otherwise we can't leave. We can't risk this stuff getting out," _the medic replied.

Out in the main hall, they stopped, looking both ways before taking off toward the emergency stairs. They were halfway there when Teva heard a noise at one of the cross-sections. She turned slightly, gun out, and crept a foot closer toward the intersection. Peeking around the corner, she gasped, pulled back, and frantically whispered, "There's four in the hall...and a fifth one being eaten."

"Oh, god, that's just disgusting," Red hissed. "Zombies!"

His voice apparently attracted their attention, because there was a snarl, and a woman's wild laugh. She called, "Here, piggy-piggy..."

Feral, Red, and Madden had worked together for years. What used to be jarring differences in their personalities and fighting styles were now things they depended on. Since they were so in tune with one another, at least on the job, they didn't even need to discuss how they were dividing up the targets. It was a given.

The two in the back had paused in the middle of a rut. It didn't seem to matter to them that under normal circumstances they both preferred women. They had marks on their skin, bruises, blood, open wounds like they'd fought for the right to top. The one underneath had bite marks on his back that were filling up with blood, but if his face was any indication, he didn't mind the pain. Both men had bloody mouths like they'd also sampled the corpse on the floor.

The woman who'd called out to them was kneeling over the motionless body on the floor, blood all around her mouth, running down her chin and neck, staining the top of her pretty, Easter-pink sweater. There was one more man as well, and he had a boxcutter in his hand, drawing small lines along the bare skin on the corpse like he was painting a picture, except where he touched, the skin split and ruby red droplets began to bead up.

The two men, both impressive specimens, separated, turning their attention to the group at the end of the hall.

Feral and Red took the man and woman closest to them. With a roll of her eyeballs, Teva turned her attention to the woman. Red wouldn't hit a woman, or at least he'd try his damnedest not to. That meant Cannibal Carrie was Feral's problem.

Boxcutter shot Red an appropriately rictus grin.

Madden, with hardly a blink, started toward the two men as Feral and Red circled their opponents, bodily clearing a pathway for the troll.

There was an endless moment of tension as they waited for someone to make a move.

"She's skinny, but I bet she'll taste good," the woman hummed almost to herself, giggled like a little girl, and launched herself at Teva. Like a gunshot at a race, the fight had begun.

Feral didn't even pull her gun. Part of her recognized that these people weren't all bad. They were infected with the P96 drug, and weren't in control of themselves any more. If she just pulled out her gun and started shooting it would be tantamount to murder. Not that she had anything against homicide, not if her opponent was also determined to kill her. But there was a moral difference between killing someone with the same skill level as herself, and killing a woman who'd clearly never fought a day in her life.

Cannibal Carrie's lunge was awkward, imperfect. If she was trying to take Feral down to the ground, her angle was all wrong. It looked more like she was trying to hug Teva, which was just... Yeah, this corper had no idea what she was doing.

Feral side-stepped her, and kicked her in the ass almost playfully.

Over CC's shoulder, she could see Red dodging a swipe from Boxcutter. Behind his haz-mat mask, he was almost smirking. It was pretty much the only thing she and Red had both inherited from their mentor, Cat: the irresistible urge to play with their prey, unless they truly felt their lives were on the line.

The pat on the butt only enraged Carrie more. Once she'd caught herself, and redirected her attention to the adept now standing behind her, the woman snarled, "Fucking bitch. I'm going to enjoy chewing that smirk off your face."

"You're welcome to try," Feral replied, tipping her chin ever so slightly in acknowledgement of the threat.

Carrie's next attack was a little smarter. She swung out with her hand, nails curved.

Feral was analyzing the hit, where it would land, how much damage it would do. She decided to take it. Such an attack would leave CC wide open to her. So she brought her arms up to block, but she made sure it was a millisecond too slow. Nails that may have been manicured prettily before that day swiped across her skin where the first few buttons of her shirt had come undone. It hurt in that burning, irritating way that a cat scratch did, or a round with an old tattoo gun. The fingers caught in the fabric of her t-shirt. Carrie was gearing up for an attack with the opposite hand-maybe going for her mask-when Feral's ill-timed block became a hold. She clamped down on Cannibal Carrie's arm, twisted, spun her body around her target's, and caught Carrie around her neck.

The woman struggled, but with one arm pinned there wasn't much she could do.

Behind them, Red had decided playtime was over. It was through sheer luck that he'd jumped back far enough from a slice of that boxcutter and saved his suit. With a frown, he raised the pistol.

Boxcutter was gearing up to run toward him. In a moment of intuition, Feral slid back one leg. The man stumbled over it, buying Red enough time to aim and shoot out his knee. As the man went down, his body tangled with her leg, and the blade bit into her calf with a narrow, four inch score, sliding through the thin nylon and skin with equal ease.

"Damn," she hissed, jerking her leg up and hitting Boxcutter in the face with her booted heel.

Tightening her grip on Cannibal Carrie, Feral forced them forward a step or two away from Boxcutter, giving Red enough room to do what he needed to. "Sleepy time," the adept muttered, feeling some bones in Carrie's wrist give way underneath her hold, which she intensified to cut off the flow of air.

A little ways down the hall, Madden appeared to be dealing with the other two men with similar efficiency. He had one backed up against a wall, and the other had jumped on his back, throwing down punches that even though they didn't appear to be inflicting real damage still had to hurt.

The man on Madden's back seemed to realize that if he pulled off the troll's mask they stood a better chance. He started loosening the straps. Madden ducked, hands reaching behind him, and threw the man across the room. While he was fixing his mask, the one he'd pinned pushed away from the wall, aiming a knee toward Madden's midsection.

He suddenly dropped to the ground, writhing in agony.

Madden turned slightly, giving Red a quick, two-fingered salute.

The elf barely acknowledged it, busy as he was putting a bullet in Boxcutter's dominant arm, rendering the blade useless.

Carrie went limp in Feral's grasp, and she tossed the woman's body aside, moving quickly to put herself in the way of the man whom Madden had tossed across the hall like a feather. He was shaking off the stunned look on his face after he'd hit the wall and floor in quick succession, pushing himself back to his feet, and in an awkward skitter that said he was injured, went after the troll again.

Feral intercepted him, plowing a fist into his unprotected stomach, and when he curled around it, coming up with a knee to the face.

Madden grabbed his bespelled opponent, and with a quick move not unlike the one Feral had used on Ghost, he rendered the man unconscious.

Red simply walked away from Boxcutter, who apparently was too injured to move after a shot to each of his limbs.

The two men met in the middle, eyed Feral, who appeared to be enjoying her time with Flying Man, and turned to look at each other. "Should we stop her?" Madden wanted to know.

Red shrugged. "But look, she's so happy." Indeed, there was a fierce grin on her face behind the mask. "I much prefer this over whatever expression she was wearing earlier."

Flying Man swung a curled fist at her, which she caught, moving with his momentum to dislocate his shoulder. He let out a blood-curdling scream.

She punched him in the mouth and something broke.

The next sound he emitted was a whimper, his jaw unable to work properly.

She was going around for more when Red asked Madden, "Do you have tranquilizers?"

"I do," Madden agreed, surprised that he'd forgotten. He changed the clip out in his primary weapon, and shot Flying Man in the hip; he slumped over, and Feral stepped back with an almost disappointed sigh, letting his face smack into the tiled floor.

She turned to glare at her compatriots, but Red only looked back mildly while Madden shot Boxcutter as well, who was lying on the ground moaning weakly.

It was then in the silence, and the aftermath, that they heard the choked whimpering. "Help...help...please..." All eyes turned to the fifth body in the hallway, the one they'd thought surely must be dead. Red stepped closer to the woman whose neck and upper chest were a bloody mess, covered in tooth marks and blood, and missing chunks of flesh.

"Oh my god..." he breathed, "Are you...?"

"Help..." she pleaded, limpid blue eyes locked on him. Her eyelids fluttered as the pain threatened to overwhelm her consciousness once more. "Help...me."

* * *

Much like Switch had done, Three clamped his eyes shut and prepared for the lightning strike. He heard it go off, felt the electricity crackling in the air, but there wasn't any pain that went with it. Slowly, he chanced opening one eye, the other one snapping open when he caught sight of a silver man hovering over him, one of his hands reflecting the trajectory of the lightning. Turning his wrist just slightly, he aimed the bolt back towards one of the other rods on the ceiling that had looked ready to fire, destroying it instantly and cutting off the circuit. The room fell back into darkness after that, and Three stayed where he was, not sure if he could move even if he wanted to.

_I just got saved by the Silver Surfer,_ he thought idly, and it was all he could do to stifle a giggle. Now was not the time to start going loopy, not when Switch was still trying to outrun- out-drag?; he's not running anywhere- the IC. Black nights were like beetles on steroids, and if one fed on fear, the other on pain...

"Oh shit, I gotta jack out," he mumbled to himself, or to the Surfer, or whoever was listening.

If those things caught him, they'd know his fears. They'd put him in a sim where he was strapped to some butcher's table getting his organs cut out without any anesthetic. He could _not _have that.

Already becoming frantic at the thought, he sat up too quickly and immediately fell back down. That shock really _had _done a number on his system.

"Easy," the Surfer soothed, and traced a finger across Will's forehead.

_That touch._

It was familiar, full of Resonance that washed over him, soothing his pain just a little tiny bit like aloe on a bad sunburn. In that touch was the gratitude and appreciation and joy of just being released back into the Matrix that came each time The Liberator rescued one of the Emerged. It occurred to him then that _that's _why he did it. As much as he liked to believe that he ran around freeing the enslaved out of a sense of duty, out of some vaguely similar knowledge of what it was like to be whisked away to a corp where he was trapped and forced to hide his abilities, he really did it more for his own selfish reasons.

Feral was wrong. It wasn't self-righteousness at all, just a pure, simple desire to let others escape from a world that he couldn't, living through their freedom; and in return, he'd get to feel like he'd done something that mattered to someone. He'd be _seen _by someone, loved by someone if only for a brief second, touched in a way that was filled with real emotion.

But that was all inside his head, inside pixels and pulses and data bytes that didn't quite transfer to reality.

Teva, though...she had rubbed his back when he was sick, comforted him when he was crying, worried about him when he was injured.

Teva had hugged him. She'd hugged him, _really _hugged him, and he hadn't hugged her back.

The Surfer pulled away and someone else touched him, another male - younger. The room was dark now, but an image of a little striped tomcat appeared in his mind. It said its thanks and moved on, ready to help the Surfer tackle the building's system. The third techno had an air of timidity to her, and as she reached towards his burned hand, gently caressing the back of it, he received an image of just a young girl. She couldn't have been more than fifteen, and seemed a little hesitant with her abilities. She'd probably just awoken to her Resonance not too long ago, but had gained enough control over it to be useful in the node.

"Thank you," she whispered into his ear, the breath on his face warm with thick emotion. "Thank you for saving us, Will. You can rest now. We'll help your friends."

Will nodded, trying to maintain his hold on his own tears of gratitude and relief, and of shame and loss, knowing now that he'd fucked up his one true, real life friendship, and that he may never get the chance to fix it.

"Phantom?" he got out, his throat tight around the words, trying to distract his thoughts about Teva with his concerns over his other friend.

"Tired, but he'll be okay. He's working on the walls. When they stop moving, you can make your door. You can be free too."

She didn't know. Too green to feel it, she didn't realize The Rider still had a hold on him. He wondered if the others noticed it, if they could even do anything about it if they had. The Rider wasn't the priority at the moment. Stopping the AI from killing everyone in the building was the priority. Once they had it under control they could then worry about the IC.

Except he didn't have that much time. Stealthwing was losing his hold on the child. If she caught up with Switch...

"Do me a favor," he asked of the girl before she could leave him. He could feel her nod as easily as he always felt Phantom's subtle movements. "Teva, my friend, the one that's on her way to help you guys right now, when she gets you out, tell her I'm sorry, and give her a hug for me, okay?"

"Why don't you-?"

"Please, just do it, okay?" he begged. "I need her to know that I'm sorry."

She nodded, ran her thumb across the back of his hand again, and was gone.

Sighing in relief, he jumped consciousness back to One and waited for the surveillance room to stop moving around. He was already on the floor right next to a hatch. With the maze disabled, all he had to do was transform that hatch into his doorway out and roll down through it, freeing himself from this nightmare.

The walls stopped moving.

Switch gave up on dragging himself, exhausted, no longer caring about the grunt behind him and the satisfied giggle of the little girl.

Three closed his eyes against the darkness of the empty, lonely room.

Two lay curled on his side in the cave, lazily watching the river of his blood continue to cut a path through the dirt floor.

Four slumped in his chair, his job done now that the technos were inching through the system, regaining control.

One pressed his burned hand against the hatch and watched as a green light snaked around the outside edge. When the circle was complete, he pressed his weight down on the door and just let gravity continue to pull him through, dumping him out of the Matrix.

It burned as The Rider's hooks ripped out of his mind.

Then it took his breath away.

* * *

Red knelt next to the injured woman. He could heal up some of her wounds, the worst ones, but he really needed to save his magic in case they ran into more trouble. As it was, he was already running low. He performed his centering technique while Madden asked the woman, "Are you rational?"

"Yes, I...they just..." she paused for a long time, "...attacked. Everyone's...gone crazy. _Why_?"

Feral stepped closer, eyeing the body on the floor. "She must be immune."

"That's good," Red replied, his hands hovering over her chest but not touching. He directed the spell to the worst of her wounds, stopping the bleeding, healing up the missing chunks of flesh. "I'd hate to heal her and have her get up to attack us."

"No," she said, "No attacking."

"If you need some place to hide, go to the hard file storage room around the corner," Madden offered. "It seems to be safe, and we have people in there."

She nodded, sitting up slowly, and tugging the ruined edges of her shirt closed over her chest. "Thank you," she said, and Madden offered her a hand up. The corper began walking away, her steps heavy.

_"Rip, we're sending an uninfected corper your way,"_ Feral notified the medic. _"Just a heads up."_

* * *

_"Fine," _Rip answered absently. "Ghost, open the door when they get here."

He nodded quietly and got up to go stand by the door, leaving her to watch over Switch. On the outside she had been as cool as ever when he had twitched ever so slightly and stopped breathing for several seconds. At her urging, he'd heard her and seemed to snap back to awareness, but on the inside it had frightened her immensely. Damage inside the Matrix was on a whole different level of medical expertise than she was accustomed to dealing with, and she found herself at an unusual loss as to what she could do for him if things went further south. She wasn't used to not feeling in control when it came to health concerns.

Now she was observing him intently, listening for each inhale and exhale of air through the mask, wondering if maybe risking an OD on the stim patches would be worth it. As she considered it, his whole body suddenly jerked in one violent spasm before falling limp again, and once again the mask fell silent.

_"Switch, breathe,"_ she ordered, but already knew this wasn't like the last time. This hadn't just been on the inside; his body had reacted on the outside on a much grander scale than she'd seen before. _"Switch!" _she tried again, moving her hand up to his neck and holding it there for a couple seconds. "Shit. Shit!"

She vaguely heard Ghost tell someone to go stand out of the way before he was suddenly at her side. "What's going on?"

"Help me lay him out," she instructed, her voice carrying the typical calm, but firm, intonation that she always had when working with a patient.

As Ghost helped maneuver Switch into position, he shot Rip a worried look as she placed her hands over his chest. "He's not breathing," he informed her.

"I know he's not breathing," she snapped.

"Shouldn't we be...um..."

She fed her magic into the tech's heart, willing it to beat, doing her best to stabilize him. "There's still gas in the air. If we pull off our masks or his-"

"You can fix it," Ghost interrupted. "Just like you did before, you can fix it."

She shook her head, inwardly losing hope as the precious seconds ticked by. "I don't have enough magic left, not to stabilize him and cure two people. I don't know if he just got lucky before or if he's actually immune."

After only a hint of a pause in thought, Ghost began stripping off his weapons and tossed them out of reach, with the exception of only one of his knives. "He won't live if he can't breathe," he said unnecessarily. "Use your magic on him; use this on me if you have to," he said, laying the knife in her lap and giving her a pointed look. "I know you know how."

Before she could protest, he ripped off his mask and Switch's, immediately beginning the process of blowing precious air into the tech's lungs. Nothing to be done for it now, she simply focused on pouring life essence back into Switch's body, hoping that she hadn't stalled the mouth-to-mouth process too long, and praying to god that she wouldn't have to use that knife on Ghost. She wouldn't have anything left to heal him with if she did.

* * *

Having been distracted from their main task long enough, the three of them turned back toward the door to the stair well. Red tried the latch, only to find it locked. "Of course," he spat. _"Switch, can you get this door?"_

The door popped open, though there was no verbal acknowledgment from Switch. Feral didn't think it odd at the time. He was probably pretty pissed about their argument, and thought giving her the silent treatment was an appropriate response...or something. Whatever. She was in mission-mode, and disregarded any concerns outside of her top priority. Right now, as they stepped into the stairwell, the priority was to get to the basement and get the technomancers loose.

They were six steps down when Feral got that quick, lightning zing up her spine. "Go!" she shouted, and urged Red forward with a shove in the back. Two steps down, and she was ducking instinctively as the familiar sound of a gun firing echoed, nearly deafening them in the stairwell. Madden's body curved over her from behind, his huge body providing a physical shield from the ricochet.

"Damn!" Red shouted. "Can nothing go smoothly today?" He crouched behind the banister just above the next flight of stairs.

"Must've gotten trapped in here when the building locked down," Madden suggested.

"Get off!" Teva snapped, and elbowed the troll.

Footsteps pounded down the stairs.

She squirmed away, leaping nimbly over Madden's crouched form, and pulled her gun. Leaning over the rail, Feral looked up, catching a glimpse of a security uniform before she had to duck out of the way of another stray bullet. "Really?" she wanted to know.

"Zombies with guns!" Red shouted.

"What the fuck is up with you and zombies?" she yelled back.

"I hate them! You hate planes; I hate zombies. Leave me alone," Red bit out defensively.

Feral took advantage of the break in fire to pop off a couple rounds of her own.

"Bunnies!" A shout traveled down to them. "You won't have me, you cotton-tailed bastards!"

Madden pulled out his weapon, and fired up as well. "Apparently, we're all rabbits."

"Sweet," Feral drawled, firing as well to force the guard to a defensive position. "Cover me?" she asked.

Madden nodded sharply.

Sneaking slowly up the stairs, she tried to make herself as small a target as she could while Madden provided suppressing fire.

Red took over when she got to the landing while Madden reloaded.

She scrambled up half a staircase before bunny-guy seemed to realize what she was doing. He must have spotted her, because his fire got redirected right at her. Ducking as the wall rained plaster from bullet holes, Feral tried to shield herself against the concrete railing while she scooted up higher. Unfortunately, she got winged coming up onto the next landing, the bullet grazing her left shoulder. "Fucking balls!" she shouted. "Guys, a little help here!" She was good and pinned now.

Madden came up the steps, boldly aiming up onto the second floor. There was a pained cry, and a momentary cessation of fire that gave Feral the opportunity to scramble up the last flight to get a good look at the guard.

He tried to aim at her with his non-dominant hand.

"Bitch, please," she drawled, and fired into his other arm. "Now," she said, taking out her other firearm in a cross-draw with her left hand, "Time for you to take a nap." Feral hit him twice; once for necessity, twice for spite.

* * *

Rip felt Switch's chest rise and fall again beneath her touch, but it was still only due to Ghost's steady breaths. His lungs had yet to register the need to breathe on their own, and though his heart was faring a little better, the magic still wasn't quite enough. The muscle kept making passive attempts at performing its duties, but then would stall out like a car whose starter was on the fritz, and Rip would have to coax it to beat all over again.

"Come on, Switch," she whispered, hearing a slightly desperate edge in her voice that was foreign to her. She'd lost patients before but never a teammate, had never failed one of hers while on a Run. If she was going to lose one it didn't seem right for her first to be this tech, a non-combatant who went down just trying to make sure everyone else was safe.

A giggle caught her attention, and she tensed as she looked from her hands to Ghost. His lips were pulled up into a smile around Switch's, and he sat back slightly. Shooting a sideways glance at Rip, he laughed again. "I'm kissing a dude," he snorted.

She nodded, putting as much soothing patience into her voice as possible. "Yes, you are, and you're helping to save his life by doing it. Do you want to keep doing it for me, Ghost? You want our friend to live, right?"

Ghost looked back down at Switch's face, at how still he was, how his skin was paling, and his smile turned into a frown. "He's dying? But, but, he likes Garrett Hood. And _I _like Garrett Hood. We didn't get to talk about the trid!" A tear began to form in the corner of his eye.

"He's not dead yet, Ghost, but he will be if you don't keep breathing for him. Please. Help me help him."

Rip blew out a small, relieved sigh as Ghost did as asked, though he was having a hard time getting the full amount of air into Switch's lungs around the fact that he was now trying to perform rescue breathing around sobs. Funny how the virus worked like that - making him attempt to violently kill Feral last time, but having such a profound effect on him at the possibility of the tech's death this time. He hadn't even _tried _to flirt with her, something she was incredibly grateful for. Having to seriously hurt or even kill one teammate for his attempts at saving another wasn't a viable option in her mind. There was no such thing as a fair trade in a situation like this.

"Easy, Ghost. Steady, even breaths," she encouraged softly, a spark of hope lighting in her as Switch's heart finally seemed to catch on to what it was supposed to be doing. The rhythm was slow, weak, but it was holding without her constant guidance. It was at least a step in the right direction.

* * *

The rest of the journey was uneventful, the door to the basement popping open before they'd even touched the handle. The basement was mostly one dimly lit hallway, a collection of random detritus from the upper levels, and a cargo elevator. They took the only option left to them, and went down the hall. The skushhhh of a door sliding open beckoned them further along.

There, in a lab that Horizon obviously wasn't supposed to have, were three people strapped to beds with some kind of strange helmet over their heads, and it looked like they were unconscious. "Take a bed, boys," Feral suggested, and stepped up to the nearest one. She started hitting buttons until the red lights on the panel turned green, and the straps released. A girl wrist twitched weakly as she struggled into awareness, eyelids fluttering. The helmet was removed. "Mask!" Feral called, and Red slipped one on over the girl's head.

She began struggling weakly, and Feral found herself saying, "Hey, hey, relax. It's okay. We're getting you out of here, but you gotta keep the mask on. There's been a building-wide contamination."

The girl stopped fighting her, opening up big, doe eyes behind the mask. "Teva?" she asked.

Pausing, raising an eyebrow, the adept responded slowly, "Yeeeeeeaaaah?"

The girl sat up sluggishly, and threw her arms around Feral's waist. "Switch says he's sorry, and I'm supposed to hug you."

She was so surprised, Feral actually hugged the girl back. "Uh...thanks."

By the time they separated, the other two technos were out of their restraints as well. "Alright, guys, we're going to go down this hall, back up the stairs, and get back to the file room," Madden urged everyone out the door.

"Then we're going back for the samples, so we'll need you to open some doors for us," Red concluded.

Feral shot him an incredulous look.

"What?" he said, "I did not endure all this craziness to not get paid."

Nobody argued with that.

* * *

Rip nearly laughed in pure, joyous triumph and relief when Switch let out a little cough, blowing air back into Ghost's mouth. Quickly, she cut the magic flow from one of her hands and tapped her current medical partner on the shoulder.

"Hey, hey, you can stop now," she said.

Ghost let out another sob and shook his head. "No, I can't. I can't or he'll die."

He bent down to try to blow another breath into the tech's mouth, but Rip gripped his shoulder to pull him back. "No, Ghost, you need to stop or you'll hurt him more."

The look on his face at the concept was one of pure horror. "Noooooo," he cried. "I don't want to hurt him. I want him to be okay. What do I do to make him okay?"

Ghost sounded so lost, so very scared that it tore at Rip's heart. What could she possibly tell him that wouldn't crush his childlike innocence? Yes, Switch had remembered how to breathe, albeit slow and shallow, but he was drawing in oxygen. Yes, his heart rate had improved, though not drastically and it was still too weak. How could she tell Ghost that it was all she could really do, that even if she wasn't feeling the drain there wouldn't be much more she was capable of that would help his new friend? That it was a very real possibility that Switch would never wake up again?

Seeing the desperate need to be of some use in Ghost's eyes, she shook away the thought of telling him any of that. "Here, sit back against the wall and we're going to prop him up just a little bit, okay? I need you to let him lean up against you so he can breathe a little easier. Can you do that?"

Ghost nodded readily and slid back against the wall, then very gently helped Rip adjust Switch so he was between his outstretched legs, moving with the same care he would take if he was carrying an eggshell-thin porcelain doll. They sat the tech up so that he was leaning back against Ghost's chest, and pulled off the visor so that his head could tuck more neatly against Ghost's shoulder. From the outside, without his PAN gear covering his face Switch simply looked like he had fallen into a deep sleep.

"Can I hold him?" Ghost whispered, seemingly afraid to wake him up.

Rip smiled sadly. "Yes, but not too tight. I don't want you putting any pressure on his lungs."

Ghost shook his head. "I won't, I won't. I just want to keep him safe. I'll keep him safe. No one will touch him. No one touches him. No one but you and me."

The determined look that flashed across Ghost's face as he so carefully wrapped his arms around his charge's waist was slightly alarming to Rip, and she wondered if his cute little boy routine would vanish when the others got back. He suddenly had that air about him like a pit bull guarding its injured pup, and she was quickly beginning to think that her plan of letting him help may just have backfired on her. For the time being though, it would have to slide. As long as he continued to trust her, to allow her to check on Switch, it would have to be good enough. He wasn't hurting the patient and he wasn't hurting her, and right now that was all that mattered.

* * *

The technos were docile people for the most part. They moved like sleepwalkers, Feral thought, and she wondered what they were doing inside the Matrix. She wondered..."Can you guys tell if the building's air filtration system is clearing out the drug, and how long it will take?"

One of the guys answered her, youngish with a shock of carrot colored hair. "It is. In approximately forty minutes it will have eradicated all trace of the drug from the air."

"Thank god," Red sighed.

"Thank you," Teva said to the technomancer, as Madden pulled open the door to the first floor, signaling them to pause while he scouted ahead. A second later, he waved them through. Down the hallway they walked, and Feral couldn't help glancing down the hallway with the four unconscious victims in it. She felt a little bad for just how injured they were, but then she remembered the look of that woman's chest, like so much raw hamburger, and she didn't feel so bad anymore. In fact, she was half-tempted to traipse down there again and kick them in the ribs a few times. She must have made some telltale twitch, because the girl's hand in hers tightened, reminding Feral of her presence. With an internal sigh, she resigned herself to her responsibilities.

Crazy running guy was screaming down the hallway, doing another lap before dinner probably.

Madden tranq'd the guy, but it was a sympathy tranq. Really. So it totally doesn't even really count. He should get a medal for that sympathy tranq'ing.

Herding everyone into the file room, Feral's first thought was 'make sure the net-surfers are comfortable.' And yes, she did smirk as she thought of the way Switch would cringe at the term 'net-surfers.' They got everyone settled in, and Madden and Red went on a hunt for water when the other technomancer, a man with white-blond hair that fell around his face in fine, shimmering strands, asked on their behalf.

Feral elected to stay behind, and throw in her skills for protecting the non-combatants. Speaking of...she walked over toward Rip and Ghost, who was snuggling Switch, and something wasn't right, and she... "What the fuck happened?!"

"You don't get to touch him!" Ghost screamed in reaction to Feral's shout. He was on his feet in an instant and dragging Switch backwards away from what he perceived to be a threat.

"Ghost, stop!" Rip ordered, noting that the man had taken care to adjust his grip when he hauled Switch up, hooking his hands under the tech's armpits instead of wrapping them around Switch's chest. It was good, a sign that his only goal really was to make sure his new best friend didn't get hurt anymore. At her command he froze, his eyes darting from her to Feral, looking at Rip with uncertainty and at Feral in a dark, threatening manner. "Feral, stay there, and for fuck's sake don't yell. He won't hurt him," she informed the adept.

After a second, and keeping his eyes on Rip and Feral, Ghost slowly sank back to the floor. He eased Switch down with him and leaned him back like he was before, only this time one of Ghost's arms did snake up around the tech's chest. He didn't squeeze, just held him in a more protective manner, using the other hand to stroke through Switch's hair.

Rip let out the breath she was holding. "Dumpshock, I think," she explained to Feral calmly, hearing the tiredness in her voice from the magic drain. "We damn near lost him. Ghost ditched the mask to help save his life, so play nice."

She moved slowly towards the two men so she could check on the tech, and Ghost let her, humming a little song as he maneuvered his hands out of her way accordingly so she could confirm that Switch's breathing and heart rate were still holding steady. They were, in that same not very healthy manner, but they were.

"She hurts people," Ghost murmured. "She doesn't get to touch him."

"She won't touch him," Rip promised, glancing over her shoulder to give Feral a look of both apology and one that said _stay the fuck back_ at the same time.

She almost attacked him outright. Her hand was on the butt of her gun, mind whirling with remembrance to Ghost's behavior during his prior infected period, latent rapist tendencies emerging under the guise of naiveté. It was only because of Rip that she didn't pull the trigger. With a sneer, she backed off, saying only, "Watch yourself. He gets a little rapey."

Feral walked away, eyes locked on Ghost warily as she refused to give him her back. She was never one for making the same mistake twice.

She looked at Switch, at his chest, rising and falling in a stuttering rhythm, his pale, unmoving features. Suddenly the hug that the girl had given her made a lot more sense. Will didn't think he was going to make it. Teva bit her lip against an onslaught of emotion, slipping around the shelving unit to press her back against its cold surface, hard edges digging into her shoulder blades. She ached. Her shoulder was burning, blood coagulating where a bullet had carved a furrow in it along the curve that sloped up to her neck. She was lucky it hadn't been an inch inward or down. Either way it would've hit an artery. Her neck hurt too, throbbing in time with her pulse, and the ring of bruises like an ugly purple necklace made her angry all over again.

For Switch's sake she needed to maintain control. So long as she didn't agitate Ghost everything should be okay. Of course, that was also kind of dependent on nobody else rousing Ghost's...mental instability (and that was her trying to put it nicely; everything else she could think of involved shouting and cuss words).

Red and Madden returned, each with an armful of water bottles. "Remember, don't inhale," Red reminded the technos as he parceled out the drinks. They lifted their masks only to bear their mouths, sipping the water, then immediately lowering them again. Red then noticed Feral standing nearby, pressed up against a storage shelf, her pistol loosely gripped in her fist. Her fingers flexed on the grip, and even though her trigger finger wasn't anywhere near the trigger it still gave him pause.

He walked up to her. "Feral?" he asked, gaze pointedly on her hand.

On a private channel, she said, _"Ghost took off his mask to breathe for Switch. He's infected again, and I don't think Rip has the mojo to cure him. Switch is unconscious from dumpshock, and it...doesn't look good. When I tried to approach, Ghost reacted defensively. I have to get out of here. My presence is just going to agitate him, and frankly, the feeling is mutual. I almost put one in him."_ Teva put her gun up, but her fingers still curled as though she wished for its comforting presence. Again Red had the feeling that he was missing out on a big part of the story regarding what had occurred between Teva and Ghost. _"Besides, I won't be much use here anyway. Madden's got more first aid experience than I do, and he can watch the technos."_

_"So you want to go fetch the remaining samples of P96 with me?"_ Red wanted to know. Then because she seemed to need it, he put a little bit of a tease into his voice. _"Not that I have a problem with that. You know I love our little tete-a-tetes." _He touched her hand, the one curled around an invisible gun. It was an intimate gesture for him, and one he'd have normally avoided, particularly while on a Run, but there was something in Teva's posture that said a little comfort wouldn't go amiss right about now.

Her eyes crinkled up a little at the corners in a meager approximation of a smile, and she nodded, straightening up, stepping away from the metal side.

Madden observed the exchange with interest, though he heard none of their words. He glanced away when Red turned to him, feigning disinterest, and began to stride over. Teva was a good girl; in a way, she reminded him of his daughter, or the person that his daughter might have been. Madden thought she deserved something nice, something that chase that wandering look from her eyes. Red, while maybe not an ideal mate, wasn't a bad man, and he thought the shaman could also benefit from a little settling down. They'd never be the perfect couple, but they had chemistry; it might work out if those two stubborn idiots ever gave in and gave it a chance.

Red explained to him in a clipped tone just what was happening with Ghost, Switch, and Rip, and asked him to stay behind and keep an eye on everything. "We're going to go up and get the rest of the samples. Do you have a back-up clip for this?" Red pointed lifted the pistol in his hand.

Madden dug it out of his coveralls, saying, "Lots of pockets are good for something."

"But a terrible fashion statement," Red shot back.

Coming up behind him, Feral snorted rudely. "I don't think coveralls have ever graced the catwalk, Red."

With a rubbery squeak, he extended his middle finger up at her.

She chuckled, and started walking toward the door.

Red had to hurry to catch up, and then they were gone.

Madden very cautiously moved a little closer to where the rest of his team was sitting, but stopped the second he saw Ghost tense up.

"It's okay, I'm staying right here," the troll said in the same slow, calm way as someone who was trying to soothe a wild stallion. He kept his hands slightly raised and out to the side, showing there was no threat.

Ghost still eyed him warily for a long time before he almost growled out, "Don't touch him."

Rip watched the exchange and sighed before she stood up warily and made her way over to Madden. "I don't know," she answered the unspoken question. "Biology, chemistry, anatomy, ask me anything, I can probably give you an answer. This?" She nodded down towards Switch. "I can't fix this."

Madden laid a hand on her shoulder. "There's a reason doctors specialize in different fields," he told her, letting her know that no one would blame her for her lack of expertise. "You can't know everything. As far as I see it, he's still alive, so I tend to think you did your job just fine."

She snorted, not willing to take the praise. "Borrowed time; not to be a pessimist. We need to get him out of here, get him to someone who can fix the damage on the inside. Aside from blowing off his arm and something about not being able to use one of his legs, I don't even know what sort of injuries he _thought_ he suffered." A dark chuckle escaped her lips. "He bit his fucking tongue at some point. I healed that. Lot of good _that _did."

"I'm sure he'll appreciate that when he wakes up." Madden offered her a small smile, but her frown just seemed to deepen even further.

She lowered her voice so Ghost wouldn't hear her and become upset. "He was dead, Madden. Technically, he was dead and it took longer than I'm comfortable with to bring him back. Between that and the dumpshock and whatever went on inside the system...if he wakes up at all, the odds of him recovering one hundred percent..." She shook her head. "It'd be a fucking miracle if he didn't suffer some sort of permanent damage."

Madden shut his eyes, the same tight, sick feeling twisting his stomach that he had experienced back in the street fight when he thought Will had been gunned down. Would Teva blame herself for this? Knowing her, most likely, but she'd do it on the inside where it would eat at her while she shrugged it off and made some sort of wise, defensive crack on the outside. She'd probably say it was the kid's own stupid fault, maybe call him a name or two, but inside...inside, Madden knew she'd be hurting.

"Rip?" Ghost called tentatively. Both her and Madden immediately turned their attention to Switch. "No, it's okay, nevermind. He stopped again, but just for a second. He's okay. You're okay, Switch. You're going to be okay."

As Ghost continued to talk to the unconscious tech, Rip rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand. Whether there had been something of a tear there or she was just feeling the heavy effects of the drain, Madden couldn't tell. It was probably a little bit of both, and he didn't fault her for either.

"I need to go sit with him, just in case," she said quietly, and stepped away before he could respond.

Madden watched for an extra few seconds before he, too, walked away. If Rip had any magic left to work with, she needed it for Switch..._just in case._ That left him as the only one capable of basic first aid in the physical realm, and there was still a corper sitting in a corner by herself looking a bit shocked and still in need of some medical attention. He would focus on her for a bit, keep his mind off the dark possibilities that could still come to pass. He'd worry about them when - if - they happened, and then he would focus on keeping Teva grounded. Lord knew that child would need it.

* * *

Teva took the lead in the stairwell, hoofing it up to the eighteenth floor, grateful that the only person who'd been trapped in there was the unconscious guard.

Red let her take the lead, but he made sure he was only ever one set of stairs behind her. She needed the physicality of it to burn out whatever it was that was going on in her head. He was fairly certain it wasn't anything good. Like she said, she'd been tempted to shoot Ghost, and her friend was dying, and they were still trapped in this damn building until the technomancers could safely unlock the place. What she really needed, he knew, was something she could take action on, some area where she wasn't a helpless bystander.

Back in the lab, he noticed that the contents of the broken vial on the floor had completely dissipated into the air. All that chaos caused by one tiny vial. It made him think maybe they ought not to surrender the samples to the client. Then again...well, money was an exceptional motivator, and he thought that if they lived through this, his team definitely deserved to get paid. He and Teva worked efficiently to secure the samples in a specially designed carrier, and on the way down when confronted with two of the people who'd cornered Rip and himself earlier, Teva just started shooting...nothing more than tranquilizers, but it was therapeutic none the less.

They loaded the samples in the van, then went back to the file room for the boxes. "How are we doing on time?" he asked the technomancers.

"We're good," the ginger replied, "It's safe to leave and..."

Lights went off, locks released, the entire building suddenly shut down. "The node's crashed and will reboot on normal function," the blond finished.

"Alright, let's get out of here," Red stated, side-stepped around an eerily complacent Teva to ask Rip, "If Ghost's not going to let us touch him, you'll have to get Switch to the van on your own." Turning back to the blond techno, who seemed to be the elected spokesperson for the group, he wanted to know, "And how are you guys getting out of here? The white-scrubs look is kind of a dead giveaway that you're not corpers."

As the technomancer said something about Phantom's people reworking their own plans to get them out the rest of the way ("it'll be much easier now that we are up here and not in the basement"), Rip caught Madden's attention, waving him over to where they had been having their previous discussion.

"Give me one of your tranq rounds," she whispered.

Madden arched an eyebrow at her as he fished one out of the clip. "For Ghost, I'm assuming?"

She nodded. "Him in the van with Switch? He'll be like a caged animal in there. I'm guessing the original plan of driving out of here in separate cars is null and void, so if anyone else wants to get out of here, he needs to be unconscious."

Nodding, the troll handed over the tranq and stepped back out of the way, seeing the way Ghost was watching him with that same distrusting look.

Rip knelt down in front of him, blocking his view of everyone else in the room so he'd focus on her. "Ghost," she started, waiting until she had his full attention. She proceeded, making sure to choose her words carefully. "I'm going to help Switch, but I can't do it from here anymore. We need to get him in the van to-"

"No one else touches him," he said, his voice taking on a little frantic edge.

"I know," she said patiently. "I didn't say I was going to let anyone else touch him. It'll just be you and me, okay? But not here. If you want to help him we need to get him in the van. Just you and me, nobody else. They're going to stay here." It wasn't quite a lie. Everyone else would stay right where they were...until Ghost was out for the count. And then they were all getting the fuck out of there.

Ghost squinted his eyes at her, and for a second she thought he was going to fight her on it, but then he dropped his gaze down to his charge and drew up his knees in preparation to move. "I got him," he insisted when Rip leaned forward to help, and gently slid out from under Switch's weight while simultaneously rotating around him so he could get an arm under the tech's knees. Ghost wasn't really all that much bigger than Switch in comparison, but between the tech's smaller frame, the fact that he seemed to be a little underweight, and the drug coursing through Ghost's system, he only struggled a little bit in getting to his feet. Once he made sure he had a solid hold on his friend, Ghost took cautious steps towards the van, shooting wary and threatening glances at everyone else in the room in between the worried looks he gave to Switch. Rip followed almost right at his heels.

"Just lay him out in the back," she directed, moving around Ghost so she could crawl inside the van and help maneuver Switch into position. Once that was done, Ghost scrambled up to assume his designated role of cradling the tech and keeping him safe, smiling softly at Rip.

"He'll be okay," he said, sounding so positive.

Rip envied that sort of blind faith. Too many years in the medical field had pretty much killed that sort of optimism in her. Neutrality. It was always safer to live in neutrality until events could either be confirmed with near one hundred percent conviction, or an action could, without a doubt, alter the results of those events. With Switch, she wouldn't - couldn't - be positive until a doctor told her he'd pull through.

"Yeah, he'll be fine," she whispered in contrast to her thoughts, slipping the tranq out. "You did good, Ghost. You did really, _really_good. Thank you."

Ghost smiled at her - a proud, genuine smile - and she almost hated to have to knock him out. It couldn't be helped, though. He was an asset to her and Switch, but a danger to everyone else. He couldn't be allowed to be a danger. Returning his smile, she stuck the needle into his arm and caught him as he went limp almost immediately. Laying him out next to Switch, she sighed and stuck her head out the back of the van, irritated with herself and everything else about this whole fucked up situation.

"Ghost is down. If we're done here, we need to go. Sirens, blue and red lights, all that shit. Patient's critical."

Red gave her the slightest nod and turned back to the technomancer. "Can you do us one more favor? With Switch," he glanced at Teva, "incapacitated, the RFID chips-"

"Will no longer be an issue," the techno informed him. "The numbers will be erased from the system."

"And her?" Madden added, glancing over at the still somewhat shocky corper.

"I won't tell," she spat out quickly, apparently having been listening enough to know when she was being talked about. "Fuck Horizon, I almost got eaten alive. You guys saved my life. I won't tell a soul. About any of you."

Seeing the truth in her eyes, Madden gave her a thankful nod and turned back to his team. "Then we should go."

"I couldn't agree with you more," Red muttered, turning to Teva again. "Shall we?"

Teva nodded, and slipped into the back of the van, keeping a careful distance from the unconscious man in case he woke up and got angry (the fucker, like he had any right). In the pocket of her jacket, she patted the little drone that Switch had named Clint.

Madden took off out of the docking bay door, heading wherever Rip told him to go.

Teva felt strangely numb about the whole thing. A teammate was dying. It wasn't the first; wouldn't be the last. Her eyes met Red's in the rearview mirror as he popped off the helmet of the haz-mat suit for his first breath of unfiltered, outdoor, stinky, smoggy L.A. air in hours. All around the van people were discarding their gas masks. Teva did the same, reminded of its presence by the actions of others. The look in Red's eyes was too close to sympathy. She turned away, caught sight of Switch, and looked out the window instead.

There was a reason she didn't get close to people. They always left. Better to be alone than abandoned.

She wanted a cigarette, but worried the smoke in the air would make Switch's stuttering breaths cease. So she waited, nibbling subconsciously at the skin around her fingernails.

The van stopped at a private practice on the other side of town, and Rip spilled out first, shouting, "Stay here! I'll get a gurney!"

Teva followed, but only to stand on the sidewalk and light up while it started to rain.

The medic was back a minute later with two other medical professionals, the three of them wheeling a transport gurney between them. They were efficient, and before she knew what had happened, they'd lifted Switch onto the gurney and wheeled him inside.

She just stood there, her cigarette sizzling as fat water droplets struck the paper and soaked through, and the burning tip dried it out as she inhaled.

A moment later they came and got Ghost on another gurney, Rip and only one of the medical assistants that time.

Somebody nodded toward her, asking, "What about that one? I see blood."

Rip shot her a look, but apparently decided she was better off left alone. "No, she's good," the medic replied.

Was she good? Yes, she supposed she was. Teva was always just fine. She exhaled again, and Madden came to stand beside her, pulling her gently underneath an awning. Red joined them a moment later, leaning up against the brick face of the building in his nice suit. No one said anything. Nobody needed to.

* * *

**TBC…**


	11. Chapter 11

Murphy's Law

Chapter 11

* * *

Fandom: Shadowrun

Pairings: Mostly Gen with a dash of Feral/Red for your angsty delights, oh, and some brief Feral/Ghost

Rating: R

Warnings: violence, gore, mentions of cannibalism, homosexuality, rape, attempted rape, insanity

Archive: Ask

Author: Alex Kade and Lily Zen

* * *

Notes: The final chapter in the story. Thank you for reading. Reviews are appreciated.

Disclaimer: Shadowrun belongs to Shadowrun peoples. Original characters belong to us.

* * *

"I want in," Rip demanded as she pushed her way into the room where they were getting ready to work on Switch.

"What?" The head mage, an aging man with peppered air, but with sharp green eyes that spoke of the vibrancy of youth, turned in preparation to argue with the younger doctor.

"Asa, let me in. I need to know how to deal with this in the field. I could've done more for him there."

With a sigh and a soft smile, Asa shook his head. "You're drained, Selene. I can sense it. You won't make it through the healing."

Throwing up her hands in frustration, she rolled her eyes and leaned back against the wall. "Fine. Just talk me through it then. Everything you do, everything you see, talk me through it. I can't fail my people out there like this, not again."

"He's alive, Selene." Seeing the square set of her jaw, Asa realized this was an argument he wasn't going to win. Nodding towards a chair in the corner, he let out long sigh. "Very well. I'll do my best, but you know it won't be the same if you don't take part." He waited for her nod before adding, "This is going to take a while."

"I can sit here all day if I have to."

Rip leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes as the doctor began to weave his magic, painting a picture in her mind with his words. The more he told her of what he was seeing, of the massive damage done to the tech's otherworldly body, the more she began to lose hope. But then he started the process of repairing all that damage, and as he wove together the torn flesh and replenished what was lost in metaphorical blood, she began to let herself feel that little inkling of optimism that she normally tried to shy away from.

_The little shit's going to make it, _she thought with a smile, and thought maybe once this was over she'd see about joining Asa's team for a little while so she could learn. From just what he was saying, this type of healing was fascinating, just the type of thing she'd love to experience for herself. And the type of thing she hoped to never have to do on a teammate, because this shit was brutal.

Hackers were apparently built from tougher stuff than a lot of people thought they were.

* * *

Teva was still crouched under the awning. There was a little collection of cigarette butts she'd flicked into the gutter, and she'd taken the jacket off, which left her weapons bare but she didn't mind. If anybody was in the mood to fuck with her, well, she was in just the right frame of mind for the situation to light up like dry wood.

Madden and Red had both eventually conceded to the weather, and gone inside the clinic. The troll had attempted to shrink her for all of about five seconds. She'd maintained her blank face, and he had sighed, giving up, leaving her in peace. Leaving her alone, which was how she liked it.

Finally, when she could take no more, when her legs were shaking with the chill of the rain, she went inside, asking Madden, "Can I have the keys?"

"Of course," the troll agreed, fishing them out of his pocket.

"I'm going to change. Either of you want something from the hotel?" she offered, her voice still a little on the raw-sounding side.

Red waved her off, but Madden wondered, "If you could grab me some regular clothes out of my bag?"

"Okay," she agreed, and stepped out again.

She felt a little better after she cleaned herself up. A little soap and water, some gauze and tape, and she was almost like a shiny new penny or something equally cliché. Teva removed all traces of her alias, sliding on worn jeans, and even more worn combat boots. She wore a tank top, because fuck them, she wasn't going to hide her bruises, and a navy hoodie under a black leather jacket. She even took the time to roll on eyeliner, thick and black, like her mood, and swapped her comm out for her personal device, tucking the AR shades in her inner jacket pocket. A quick pit-stop at Madden's room, and she was heading back.

She felt like she'd put her armor back on, and the woman who walked back into the clinic was somebody else. Over an hour had passed since she'd left, that meant it was nearly three since they'd arrived, and nothing was changed except for the fact that Ghost was up, and apparently normal again. Oh joy. Feral nodded at him politely, and tossed Madden's clothes in his lap.

"Let me know when it's over, I guess," she stated, and went back out walking because anything was better than sitting there doing nothing.

* * *

Will's first thought when he was capable of thought again was that he was warm.

His second was that he was incredibly comfortable.

His third was that he shouldn't be.

There should've been pain, and fatigue, and cold, hard floors that moved around however they pleased. Or there should've been nothing at all because he shouldn't have been waking up. He should've been dead.

But he wasn't. He was thinking, and thinking meant he was alive, and he wasn't feeling any pain, and he was in a bed, and not being in any pain and in a bed meant...

A memory shot through him of the little girl giggling as she demolished his agent inside the node. There was nothing keeping her from catching him anymore, from biting him, from sending him into her own twisted BTL.

His eyes snapped open, instantly confirming that he was, in fact, in a clinic of some sort. There were people he didn't know, didn't trust, and they were touching him.

"GET OFF!" he screamed, instantly panicked at the thought of what the IC had planned for him. As he scrambled up into a sitting position, then rolled himself off the bed, it didn't occur to him that the medical staff had backed off instantly at his command. He didn't notice Rip jumping to her feet, asking Asa if this was from the P96 or damage rendered from his condition, or Asa confirming that it was not the drug, that it might be mental damage. The fact that everyone remained frozen, no one moving in on him to try to strap him down, didn't cross his mind. All he knew was that he was in a strange clinic with strange people immediately after being chased down by an IC who could make this happen.

"Switch," Rip stepped in, concerned as she watched the tech get himself trapped in a corner. He was too wound up, putting too much strain on the body she had worked so hard to bring back to life. "Switch, you're okay. You need to calm down."

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!" he screamed, making her jump back slightly.

She recovered quickly and took a tentative step forward, stopping when he looked like he was literally trying to meld with the wall, his fingernails scratching gouges in the paint as his hands tried to find purchase on anything.

"Hey, you need-"

"YOU'RE NOT REAL!" he screamed, then repeated softer, "You're not real. It's not real."

The doors burst open behind her and she turned to see Madden and Red barrel into the room.

"What's going on?" Red asked.

Madden placed a hand to his eyes. "The clinic," he said almost to himself. "He's scared of clinics." Making his own pass at calming down the frantic tech who had slipped into a mantra of "it's not real," he moved forward and tried to reach out to him.

"DON'T!" Will screamed, then slid down to the floor, drawing up his knees and wrapping his arms over his head. "Log out, gotta log out," was the new mantra he started to repeat.

"Shouldn't you drug him or something?" Red asked, a touch of concern riding beneath the seemingly crass statement.

"No," Asa said quickly. "He's confused, isn't aware that he's not still inside the Matrix. If we drug him and he wakes up here or somewhere else, we could just have a repeat of this same form of attack. He needs to be convinced that he's in the real world."

_"Teva,"_ Madden called. _"You might want to come back here. We have a...situation."_

* * *

Teva was on her...okay, she'd lost count...lap of the block, and chainsmoking her...again, she couldn't remember how many cigarettes she'd smoked. She just used the burning end to light the next one, and ditched the butt on the ground. Hand in her pocket, head down as though she was plowing through a strong gale, she walked until Madden buzzed her comm with a sense of urgency in his voice. She immediately began heading for the clinic, asking, _"What kind of a situation?" _She didn't want to walk in there and be blindsided by what she found.

Madden replied, _"Switch woke up. He's panicking. He thinks he's still in the Matrix, that this isn't real, and he's in a clinic, so he's doubly freaking out." _

She picked up her pace, answering, _"Okay. I'll be there in a sec."_ She didn't know what the hell good she'd do. Dealing with emotional crises wasn't exactly her forte. But at least she could be there and confirm for her own eyes that her little retard was alive and kicking, and hopefully he wasn't crazy or brain damaged or something made of equal amounts of suckage.

Ghost was still in the waiting room when she got there, and he offered her a wan smile. "Hey."

"Yeah, hey," she responded without much enthusiasm, "Where is he?"

"The first room," Ghost replied, pointing back toward the hallway that would lead toward the exam rooms.

Teva nodded, and walked back there, finding that she didn't need much more direction than that. The door to the exam room was wide open, and crowded with bodies. She understood now why Ghost was still out in the waiting room. Tapping Madden on the bicep, she slithered her way inside the room.

What she saw almost broke her heart, if such a thing was possible for such a seasoned veteran of heartbreak as Teva.

Will was huddled against the wall, rocking, muttering to himself.

She looked to Rip. "We can't get near him," the medic replied.

Teva slid a little closer. "Hey, Will," she said, and crouched down so that he wouldn't have to crane his neck to look at her. "What's up?" _Good opener, Teva. Fucking smooth. You are doing so awesome at this. What the hell, they should make you captain of the sensitivity squad!_

Will froze at the sound of Teva's voice.

"No, not her," he begged. "Please, don't make it be her."

The IC was inside his head, reading his thoughts. It was going to torture him with the one person he had just realized was his one true, real friend...his friend whom he had let down. Maybe that was better. Maybe he deserved that. To be killed by the only person who had honestly cared about him since his father died, who he'd repaid that kindness with lies, lack of trust, stupid grudges... Yes, it was better this way. The IC was trying to tarnish the image of his friend, but in truth it was doing him a favor. It was bringing justice to a person he'd wronged in reality, and though it was all just pixels and images inside his head, on some level it still just seemed right.

Uncurling himself, Will lowered his arms to his lap, but couldn't bring himself to look at her. She was just a program, nothing more, and the IC probably made her look terrifying. He didn't want his last visual representation of her to be terrifying.

"Go ahead," he whispered. "I deserve it."

He squeezed his eyes shut and waited, remembering that Stealthwing said this one fed on pain. That meant there would be no hope for a quick and painless death. The only thing he could do would be to try to save some dignity and hold out as long as he could without screaming.

"Will..." Teva hesitated, then looked over her shoulder. "Do you think you guys could clear out? At least some of you? It's kinda crowded in here."

It was a lame excuse, but Madden at least understood that she was probably going to get all emotional and sloppy at some point, and she didn't want anybody to witness it. He left the room, and Red followed with a quiet, sincere, "Take care of him."

"No," she drawled, "I'm gonna throw him out the window, and see if he'll bounce."

Red shot her a look.

Teva stuck out her tongue at him.

He left with a little chuckle, and a shake of his head.

She turned to the docs with raised eyebrows.

"We should stay," Rip said.

"He's healed, right?"

"Well, yes, but..." the other doctor began.

"But what? I'll have a better chance of calming him if you aren't hovering around being all _doctoral_," Teva tried to explain.

The two physicians had a quick conversation while Teva refocused on Will, saying, "Hey, go ahead with what? I'm confused. Did we have plans I don't know about? Because I know we briefly discussed flying to D.C. for face-punchings, but we never confirmed that."

Rip cleared her throat to catch her attention. "We'll be right outside the door. Holler if you need something."

Her only response was to make an impatient gesture with one hand while the doctors filed out. She was here for Will. Wasting her time with the doctors was low on the totem pole in her list of things to do.

God, the D.C. trip. He needed to stop thinking, to stop giving it fodder to use against him.

"Don't...don't fuck with me," he muttered. His head was starting to ache, and he unconsciously pressed the heel of his hand against his brow. This was probably the beginning of the pain part. "What are you waiting for? Start wherever you want. That's why you healed me, isn't it? To start fresh? Maybe you wanted the other arm instea-" He hissed in a breath and screwed his eyes shut even tighter. His head was _really_ starting to hurt.

Great, she wasn't doing well at this _at all_. In fact, Teva was kind of sucking hardcore at it, and she didn't really know what to do that wouldn't jar him too badly. Eh, well...maybe directness was what the situation called for anyway. "Will, peanut, you're not in the Matrix anymore, and frankly, I think me attempting to hurt you is an unfair advantage. I mean, you can't even throw a punch. So..." she paused, noticing that Will was starting to grab his head. "Are you feeling okay?"

_Peanut?_

She'd only called him that once before, and he'd forgotten. The IC couldn't dig that deep into his brain, not for things he didn't remember, could it? No, no, that's not how it worked. The Matrix worked on direct thought or subthought just under the surface. There was no way...which meant he really was in some clinic somewhere...with Teva sitting right in front of him.

Will pushed himself away from the wall and latched onto her - hard - pressing his face into her shoulder so the light would stop stabbing at his head through his closed eyelids. Then, in a mix of fear, relief, gratitude, and regret, he let the words pour out.

"I'm sorry. Jesus, I'm so sorry. I'm so...stupid sometimes. Please don't hate me, don't hate me, Teva. I don't want to be in here all by myself. Don't leave me here by myself. Or we can go. Can we please just go? I don't know where we are, and I don't know those people, and last time you took me to the Doc Wagon so I know you didn't take me somewhere for someone to cut me up because I trust you, and I know you don't believe that, but I do, I really do. I just don't know where we are, and I don't want to be here, and...and..." He unwrapped one of his hands from around her back to curl it around his head again, and murmured. "It hurts..."

For a brief moment, she was too stunned to respond. Will was hugging her and babbling in that way that he did whenever he was feeling anxious. Okay, so apparently he'd decided she wasn't an illusion. Great. Score one for the sensitivity squad. She hugged him back, hands beginning that soothing rhythm of comfort that might have been hereditary knowledge in all people, though the movement over his back was absent of the pull of magic. "Hey, it's okay. Everything's fine. I promise, I won't even tranquilize you this time," she joked awkwardly.

"The docs did their best to repair all the damage, but I guess it was pretty bad," Teva stated, not sure of the actual diagnosis because she'd pretty much avoided the clinic like the waiting room was hot lava. "Maybe I should have them check you out? This...doesn't look right," she hesitated, beginning to rise up. His reaction was worrying her. She wondered if the docs had screwed something up in there, crossed some wires or something, though she'd never say that to Will out loud. He'd start panicking way worse, and it might make his medical phobia even worse.

As she started to pull away, Will curled his fingers into the fabric of her shirt in a desperate attempt to keep her from leaving him, but he quickly abandoned it when his headache spiked to an even higher level. It had gone from mild to bad to really bad to now it felt like someone was drilling holes into his head while at the same time clamping it in a vice. The light was searing into his brain and subtle sounds were hitting him like a sledgehammer. As much as he wanted to tell her not to get the doctor, that he was fine, that he just wanted to go to whatever passed as home for the time being, he wanted the pain to stop more.

Gasping, he wrapped both arms around his head again and dropped down against the floor, curling up into a ball on his side as he tried to hide his face from the light and cover his ears at the same time. Nausea hit him, and though he had told himself he wasn't going to cry anymore it was either let the tears slip out of his control, or throw up again. He'd thrown up enough in front of Teva. So he lay there in his ball, trying to block out the world, swallowing heavily and altering his breathing in an attempt to hold back the nausea, and crying silently against the crippling pain.

"Oh, Jesus," Teva whispered to herself in alarm when Will began to cry. She got up, and walked over to the door, poking her head out into the hall. "Hey, something's wrong," she told Rip and her constituent, "He said his head hurts really bad, and he's like...crying and stuff. I mean, that's not normal, is it?"

The other doctor pushed into the room while Rip answered her question. "No, it's not normal," the medic agreed, "But there was a lot of damage that he had to repair, and unfortunately, there was some he was unable to repair. Asa wasn't sure what it would manifest as, but it seems like a migraine just going off of what you told me."

"Which means?" Teva wanted to know.

"Well, he's now twenty percent more likely to die from a brain aneurysm," Rip offered, "But other than that, I don't know what this will mean for his...line of work, or even his lifestyle as a whole. I wish I could tell you something else."

With a sigh, Teva stepped back inside the room, while Dr. Asa was introducing himself and beginning to question Will about what exactly he was experiencing. She walked back to Will's side, settling back on her haunches again so she could rub his shoulder companionably, letting him know wordlessly that she was back. Silent, she listened to what the doctor had to say.

Asa knelt down in front of his patient and very gently pulled one of his hands away from his ear.

"Switch...street names... What's your real name, son?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

Will's head spun even more, something he thought would be impossible at this point, as he tried to remember who he was supposed to be right now. Who's comm was he wearing? Caleb's...Warren's...both...which one should he say? No, wait, it didn't matter. Teva had already said his name out loud, hadn't she? He thought she did...this much thinking hurt.

"Will," he finally whispered.

"Alright, Will, my name is Asa. I'm going to ask you a few questions, okay? Then we'll take care of you."

Will nodded ever so slightly, trying not to move too much. Asa asked the typical medical type questions: did it hurt more on one side versus the other - _does it fucking matter? the left side, dick_ - did he feel sick - _yes, goddamn it, and asking about it makes it worse_ - did he find light and sound to be more aggravating - _shut the fuck up and turn off the lights and maybe I'll tell you_ - did he hurt anywhere else - _does it look like it hurts anywhere else? I'm holding my head, dumbass_. Will didn't say these things, of course, the effort to speak making everything that much worse. Instead, he kept his answers to short phrases or just subtle nods while inwardly just begging for the guy to give him something to make the pain go away.

"Okay," Asa continued, speaking to Will but also addressing Teva, who seemed to be his support system. "I'm going to give you an injection of a pain killer called Xetomyathine. It's not going to make the pain go away completely, but it'll help dampen it quite a bit, and it _will _control the nausea." Without saying anything he nodded up to Rip as a sign to go get the drug while he continued. "You'll have to give it a few minutes to kick in, and then we'll see about getting you back up onto the bed. Does that sound good?"

Will simply nodded in response, but inside he was screaming _HURRY THE FUCK UP!_

Rip was back in a flash, and she gave Will the injection herself. After that she got up and dimmed the lights, much to Will's utter relief, and everyone stayed blissfully silent for the next several minutes while they waited for the drug to start doing its job. When it did, it was almost like that thing that Teva could do with her hands, rounding out the sharp edges of the pain so that it was less stabbing and more like a round pebble rolling around in his brain. Not gone, but definitely better; and not feeling like he had to throw up was an added bonus.

Letting out a shuddering breath, Will let his muscles relax somewhat and rubbed his hand over his eyes, wiping away the tears. "Thank you," he said in a weak voice.

"You're welcome," Asa answered, also still keeping his volume down. "Selene, help me get him back on the bed."

Once Will was settled, and the doctor had gestured for Teva to resume her post on the other side of the bed, Asa offered them both a bit more of an explanation of what was to come. "Will, I need to understand where exactly this pain is coming from so that I can help you control it better in the future. That means I need to go back in while you're still experiencing it. Have you had a procedure like this done before?"

"Yes," Will sighed out, still keeping his eyes shut. "A beetle, when I was sixteen."

"Okay, then I won't bother going through with the explanation. Just try to relax, and I'll be in and out as fast as I can."

Will nodded again and let the doctor do his thing, feeling the magic as it probed around his aching brain. It was an invasive procedure and it made him uncomfortable, so instead of focusing on that, he tried to just keep his attention on Teva's hand on his shoulder, on the way her thumb was drawing little circles and figure eights in a slow, fluid motion. He had almost fallen to sleep to that lulling touch when he felt Asa's magic slip back out, and he chanced cracking open one eye to look at the doctor.

"How bad?" he asked.

Asa sucked in little breath before he spoke, a telltale sign that the news wouldn't exactly be good. "Will, how much of what you do depends on you being in the Matrix?"

"It's my life," the tech answered, dread settling in his chest like a lead weight.

Asa nodded. "I assumed as much. I'm not going to tell you that you have to stay logged out - the damage isn't that critical - but I will warn you that there may be certain triggers to these migraines that you'll experience almost solely within the virtual world. It's impossible to pinpoint for sure what may or may not bring on these episodes, but I'm willing to bet that factors such as length of time, stress, damage taken inside a node, how heavy the workload - all of these could increase the chances of you experiencing what you've just gone through. I'm going to send you home with an oral prescription of the Xeto. If you learn to read the early signs of an oncoming migraine, you can take it in time to prevent the worst of the pain. Common signs are blurred vision, maybe halos appearing around objects, possibly a slight ringing in your ears, or maybe a slight pressure in your head, tingling in your hands - if you experience anything out of the ordinary, take the medication, even if you're not sure. It'll be much better than letting the headache progress to its advanced stages, as I'm sure you've noticed."

"How long?" the tech asked, pretty much skipping past everything the doctor had just explained.

Folding his hands in his lap, Asa leaned forward a little bit to answer the question, knowing exactly what the young man was referring to. "This will be a permanent prescription in your file, son. Do you understand?"

Will felt a sort of numb acceptance of the whole situation. He knew his job...hobby...duty...was a risky one, and he knew this particular Run was the most dangerous thing he'd ever done. He was lucky to have made it out alive at all. This was just a minor setback, nothing that would keep him from doing the only thing he was good at.

"How much?" was his bigger concern.

The doctor offered a sympathetic look. "More than your average grunt corper can afford, but if Selene brought you in here, I'm assuming you're not the average grunt. Take some extra jobs, but keep them simple. If you can make the pills last between the big Runs you should be okay."

Will turned to Teva and flashed her a small smile that he didn't really feel. "Guess between the Doc Wagon and here, I won't be seeing any of my cut, huh?" It didn't sound so funny coming out of his mouth, and he lost his tentative smile quickly. Dropping his gaze, he whispered. "Can we go now?"

"You should rest for a few hours," Asa recommended.

Will shook his head. "I don't have to do that here."

With an understanding nod, Asa stood and patted Will on the leg. "I'll ready your prescription, then you may go. It'll be on a nameless file for the time being as I'm certain you can handle altering the patient name on your own."

Will closed his eyes and nodded, done with the conversation. Being in the clinic had him on edge, and between being tired and in pain, being on edge really didn't fit into the picture. All he wanted to do was get out of there and maybe just sleep for the next week. Maybe the next month.

Teva listened to the news solemnly, and felt like an asshole all over again. More than that, she felt guilty. Will had suffered permanent mental damage during the course of a Run that she'd brought him in on...while she was yelling at him for being an inconsiderate dick, and not telling her that he was double-dipping jobs. (Okay, maybe she was still a little irked about that, but he'd apologized, and she was going to let it go...any second now...maybe _now_...now? Okay, now.) Still, he wouldn't have been there if she hadn't asked him to come, and he'd still be riding net waves, watching Garret Hood trids or whatever it was that geeks did in their off-time. Instead he was...

God, she was doing it again. That was the problem with getting close to people. Once they were in, their hurt became her hurt, and she just _felt _way too much. Teva didn't understand how normal people could live like this. She shouldered the blame because it was what she'd always done...with Tamsin...with her mother, whom she couldn't save...even with Razor, though she knew it was a bass ackwards kind of logic that led her to doing so. Caring hurt. It was a burden, a weight.

And that right there was the reason why she would never do anything more than flirt with Red. She wouldn't even learn his name, because once she started crossing boundaries and letting people in, the harder it became to do what she needed to do.

Some people said that love was an asset, a source of strength. Teva had only ever found it to be a weakness.

Will saying something about leaving startled her out of her trance-like state, and she gave him a worried half-smile. The doctors had given it the go-ahead, so she squeezed his shoulder. "Give me five," she said quietly, and slipped out the door into the waiting room. It seemed like she drew her first deep breath in days out there, and Madden gave her a look, stepping over to her quickly.

"How is he?" the troll wanted to know.

It appeared that Will had secured himself another friend whether he knew it or not, Teva thought wryly. "He's got some permanent damage. Migraines. The docs can't fix it. He's gonna have to be on medication to control them."

Madden winced. "Jeez."

"Yeah," Teva replied with a nod, not quite knowing what else to say. "He wants to leave, so the doc's getting his prescription ready, then we can go."

"I'll get the car," he acknowledged the unspoken request.

She smiled wanly in gratitude, and went back to find the doctor in the room giving Switch some last-minute instructions regarding his new prescription, and a few sample packs to get him settled for the time being. Poking her head in the door, Teva asked, "Ready to go, Hercules?" She winked at him jokingly, not sure if he'd get the literary reference, or that it was her way of maybe saying that he was tougher than he looked. It was a compliment. A weird, outdated, bass ackwards compliment, but a compliment none the less.

Will offered up a little half-hearted smile at Teva's words. "Theseus might've been better," he said quietly, then looked down at his arms. "I'm kind of not that strong."

"Strong enough," Rip said with a little grin, and gave the tech a hug. "I'm going to stay here a little longer, talk to Asa a bit more. I'll see you guys back at the motel later, where I _will _run a check on you." She gave Switch a pointed look, to which he nodded readily enough. She then turned to Feral. "I'm having the guys pull out my RFID while I'm here. The offer's on the table for Red if he wants it, otherwise I'll handle it when I get back. Or he can leave it in. Whatever he wants." She shrugged, easily slipping back into her passive attitude. That skin was much more comfortable to wear than the stressed out, worried one was, and it suited her better in her opinion.

But then Switch had to go and ruin it with a sudden random hug of his own, interrupting the conversation before Feral could even answer. "Thanks. For not letting me die," he murmured into her ear.

Rip patted his back, not blaming him for his current emotional ADD. The kid had been through a lot over the last few hours.

"Just doing my job," she answered, the neutral tone slipping a little bit. She broke the hug. "Go on, get out of here. Go sleep off the rest of that headache. And thank Ghost, too. Poor guy had to play human intubation device for longer than he was probably comfortable with to keep your ass alive."

"Selene," Asa scolded as Will's face flushed slightly. "What did I tell you about your bedside manner?"

She rolled her eyes. "He's not in bed anymore, now is he? Besides, he's a friend."

She exchanged another smile with the tech before she tilted her head towards the door, signaling for him to go. As he slipped out, she touched Feral's wrist before the adept could follow. "I was serious about Red, and make sure Switch gets right to bed when you get him back to the motel. The Xeto can only do so much on its own. Sleep is really going to be his best cure; anything else is just going to prolong the migraine, especially anything dealing with cyberspace. He needs to understand that. Is that something you can handle?"

People were really way too touchy-feely that day. It wasn't exactly something she was comfortable with, particularly coming from stern Doctor Rip. They just didn't know each other well enough for that. Without trying to be obvious about it, Teva slipped out of Rip's grasp, and stuck her hands in her coat pocket. "Yeah, I got it," she agreed with a nod, then headed for the door as well.

In the waiting room, she found Red idly playing with his comm, strands of that absurdly red hair falling into his face. She felt a surge of _something_, but shied away from identifying it. Whatever it was, Teva chalked it up to a long, stressful day. Clearing her throat, she said quickly, "Rip said if you want the RFID removed you can stay, or she can do it later at the motel, or you can leave it in if you wish."

The elf looked up, thinking his options over. With a slight grimace, he decided, "So long as the chip's offline, I think I'll just leave it in."

"Probably best," she agreed with a little murmur.

Red stood up, stretching to his full height, and slung a companionable arm around her shoulders, steering her toward the door.

"After all, we both know you're kind of a wimp when it comes to _owies_," Feral teased, dropping into babytalk at the very end.

Red shook her a little, but she could see that he was trying not to smile. "You're an ass."

She didn't respond, but she was smiling a little too.

* * *

The ride back to the motel seemed to occur in the blink of an eye, and it was shortly thereafter that she followed Will into their motel room, quietly gathered up his electronics, and shoved them in a dresser drawer. "Doctor's orders. Sleep, no nets; it'll just prolong your headache." She almost sounded apologetic.

Red tapped on their door, and she opened it a crack, wondering what the hell was going on _now_. "Madden, Ghost, and I are going to get rid of the real doctors...and ditch the van. You need anything?"

"Food?" she asked hopefully.

"Of course," Red agreed with a dip of his chin, the most meager nod one could possibly make.

"Will?" Teva asked over her shoulder. "You want anything for now...or later?"

"Later," he answered somewhat absently as he sat on the edge of the bed and slowly peeled off his armored shirt, once again not giving a shit that people could see him undressing. "I don't care what," he added, realizing that the actual food part was probably intended to be included in his answer. For the first time in a while, he really honestly didn't care what he ate. What he wanted was to be able to check in with Phantom, make sure the techno had gotten out okay. Since Teva had already nixed that plan and he didn't have the energy to argue about it, his second desire was to get into his t-shirt and soft pajama bottoms, get comfortable, then pass out for the rest of forever. Or at least until his head stopped hurting.

With his shirt changed he stood up to undo the cargos, but quickly plopped back down as a wave of vertigo hit him.

"Fuck it," he murmured, and let himself fall down onto his side, curling up on top of the covers and pulling one of the pillows over his head. He could change his pants when he woke up.

Red went from glancing in the room, giving eye contact as Switch was speaking even though the other man was barely cognizant of that fact. Good breeding. Teva wondered idly where it was he came from, and what the hell a guy like what was doing running around with street trash. Mentally, she separated Will from that group. He wasn't trash either. When he was being Will, he was polite and well-bred as well. At least he had been until all of this.

Her expression became stormy.

Red must have caught on to the direction of her thoughts, because the next thing she knew there was a hand on wrist tugging her out the door. The motion was too quick for her to register, and she resisted automatically, unintentionally stumbling over the trip wire. Teva leapt forward the second she heard that unmistakable fwap.

Will cringed beneath his pillow as he heard that familiar _twang, thud! _of the crossbow bolt hitting the door. "Strike three," he mumbled, smiling just a little.

A second later, three things happened of various levels of importance: Red had caught her up in his arms, the crossbow bolt was poking through the door again, the force with which it had impaled pushing the door forward and gravity swinging it closed again with a gentle click, and Teva suddenly realized that she was being held by the elf and it wasn't that fucking terrible. In fact, she tightened her arms around his back, nose tilted down against the v of flesh revealed by his open collar.

He smelled like the faintest hint of cologne, and sweat, and magic. The desire to climb him like a monkey rose up in her, to press her mouth to the hollow between his collarbones. Teva kept herself in check, but it was through sheer force of will.

Then something changed. Red shifted a little, his hands running up and down her back over the dark leather jacket, and suddenly it was just about comfort. She held on tight, and let the sadness wash through her, though she fought the tears that welled up in her eyes. "It's not your fault, Teva," Red whispered against the top of her head. "You don't have to bear this burden." Shaking her head, she merely pressed her nose against his skin a little harder like she was trying to burrow in. Like a leaky faucet, the tears began to drip out, running onto him and disappearing down his shirt.

With a sniff, and a last squeeze, she pushed away. "Thanks," she said, "For...you know."

Red's grin was a weak facsimile of his usual one. He touched her neck, and frowned.

"Don't. If you want to heal something, and you've got the mojo, do the one on my shoulder," she offered.

He nodded, his hands sliding over to brush her graze wound, still hidden underneath layers of clothing, and pushed his magic into it. She felt the skin knit, the crusty pull of the scabbing against the gauze disappear. With a nod, she stepped back, eyed the door, and said dryly, "Next time you feel like grabbing me, a little warning would be nice."

Red fell into the bait because he knew she needed the lightness of it. "Next time I feel like grabbing you, you'll know," he teased with a wink, and a smile, and walked away before he did something regretful. When he glanced over his shoulder, she'd already disappeared back into the room. He shook his head, clearing it of the fog that seemed to enshroud him only when Teva decided it should, and headed for the van.

Ghost and Madden should have completed the unloading by now, and he had a score of errands to run before the night was done. Truthfully, he should have made Teva come with and split them up into pairs, giving Ghost an opportunity to clear the air between them, but he disliked the idea of leaving Will unguarded in his current state. So though it was not the more efficient way, this was the way it needed to be.

When Teva stepped back into the room, Will lifted the pillow up just enough so that his voice wouldn't be muffled and announced, "Your trap sucks. It struck out."

He briefly wondered what her expression looked like at the notion of him insulting her crossbow for pretty much failing to kill only the two of them, but it wasn't worth uncovering his face enough to find out.

"You're right," Teva mused as she dug the bolt out of the door again. "Maybe next time I should use a knockout-gas grenade. Yeah, I think that'll work better. After all, if _you're _fast enough to dodge it, somebody else can as well." She laughed jokingly, and dropped the bolt on the dresser.

Maybe after everybody was back, she'd go for a run...in a dangerous neighborhood...at night...because that wasn't asking for trouble or anything. God, she was a sick person, blood already thrumming in anticipation of the thugs she was going to beat up on. That would be...therapeutic.

Until then, she shrugged off her jacket, put on her shades, and accessed the book she was reading again. It was a cerebral novel, something that would keep her mind busy, and keep her quiet and still long enough that Switch would fall asleep.

* * *

As Madden and Ghost unloaded the van, the troll couldn't help but feel a little concerned at how uncharacteristically subdued Ghost had become. He knew it had everything to do with the things the man had done under the influence of the drug, both with Teva _and _with Will. It was probably very confusing for him, the fact that he could be so violent towards a teammate one minute and so protective of another the next. With a sigh, Madden wished the drug had worked in such a way that the infected couldn't remember what had happened while they'd been...not themselves. It would've made things a whole lot easier.

"It's not your fault," he started, breaking the heavy silence that had enshrouded his teammate.

"So everyone keeps telling me," Ghost muttered. He didn't sound convinced.

Madden arched an eyebrow at him. "Do you blame me for attacking you? I believe I would've killed you just as readily as you were aiming to kill Feral."

"I wasn't just-" Ghost stopped himself and turned away, the haunted look in his eyes growing more intense. "No," he said quietly. "No, I don't blame you. I just...the drug had to have some sort of latent tendency to enhance, right? So somewhere inside me...I just never thought..." Blowing out a long sigh, he shook his head. "Nevermind."

As much as Madden wanted to ask about the exact details of what happened, it wasn't in his right to do so. He knew it was more than just a violent attack, but if Ghost or Teva didn't want him to know about it, he wouldn't push.

It was time for a different tactic. "The corper we sent to the room? Her coworkers were...let's just say it was time for their lunch break and they'd decided she was on the menu. Somehow I don't think cannibalistic tendencies reside in the dark recesses of all of those peoples' psyches. The drug simply reacted to their hunger, nothing more than that. It's not necessarily a reflection of who you are."

Ghost turned to him, and the troll was temporarily set back by the fear and shame in the man's eyes that had so quickly replaced the haunted look. "What if it is, though? I can't...I don't want to think I'm the type of person who..."

"What about Switch, then?" Madden interrupted. "While people were reacting violently all over the building, you were _saving _someone. Even under the influence of the drug, all you wanted to do was keep him alive and keep him safe. To me, that tells me far more about who you are inside than the attacks did, because I don't believe I saw a single other person showing true compassion while they were infected. I would try to hold onto _that_thought if I were you."

Madden saw Red coming out and left Ghost to mull over their conversation for a bit. He hoped it would help, if even just a little. The guy had seemed so carefree before this Run.

In fact, not one of them had walked away from this one without earning some new scars on some level. He wondered if the grand payout was actually worth it. Something inside told him that this time, it wasn't.

* * *

When Red got into the van, he almost, _almost _turned around and asked Ghost what the hell had gone on between him and Teva. He was feeling protective of their little adept, which she would probably scoff at if she ever realized. He turned on the radio instead, hiding his thoughts behind a pair of shades that were completely unnecessary that late at night. If anyone questioned him, he was playing around in the Matrix. He wasn't, but that was beside the point.

"Let's get those doctors," Red stated.

Madden drove to the safe house, making admirable attempts at small talk that Red half-heartedly replied to. He didn't particularly want to talk. Truthfully, he was just as tired as the rest of his team, and dreaming longingly of his comfortable bed at home.

When they arrived, Ghost led the way upstairs, and he and Madden exchanged the rounds in their weapons for tranquilizers, and unlocked the bedroom door to the shocked and ecstatic cries of the doctors...until they realized their 'rescuers' were their kidnappers. _Pap, pap_! and they were both down for the count.

It was a testament to just how impatient and tired he really was that Red actually helped Ghost bring the male doctor down to the van.

The work went quickly, and they ditched the van, Ghost wiring another car for them, and driving them to an all-night grocer where they picked up supplies. After they came back bearing food stuff, he dropped them off at the hotel. Madden went inside first, and Ghost was about to follow when Red cleared his throat.

"Ghost," he began in his most disinterested yet professional tone, "You're a good man to have at one's back, and you have a skill set that I find to be particularly useful. I'd like to work with you on other jobs if you're amenable, but I must be straightforward with you. I work with Feral a lot, and if she can't have you at her back that poses a problem for other runs that I'd like to hire you on for. If you're interested in working with us, please attempt to sort out whatever occurred between the two of you."

He saw Teva open her door as Madden knocked, handing over a bag to her. She accepted it with a tiny nod, and Madden ruffled her hair affectionately while she tried to dodge and twist away from his grasp. With a slight smile at Ghost, Red stated, "She's still awake, though I'm not surprised. She'll be jittery for hours after all this." With a flourish of his hand, he seemed to encompass the entire job in his explanation.

His piece said, Red turned and began walking away, leaving Ghost to his own devices.

Ghost stood there for a while, even after Madden had finished toying around with Feral and graced him with a gentle, supportive touch on the shoulder on his way past. Questions rolled around in his head - Did he really care if he worked with Red and his team again? Could he just go on his way without looking back, forgetting that any of this ever really happened? Would it be possible to live with himself, with the thoughts of what he almost did, without at least trying to make amends?

She wouldn't forgive him. He wouldn't forgive himself. Therefore it wouldn't really make a difference if he apologized or not. Wasted effort.

Then again, maybe on some level it could make it a little better for _her_ if she knew how much this was tearing him up inside. If nothing else, maybe his pain could lessen hers a little, and that would be _something._

Taking in a deep breath, he approached the door, his hand hesitating for several long seconds in mid-air before he found the courage to knock on it. He immediately took several steps back, and put his hands behind his back, gripping one wrist with the other like a child who is told not to touch anything in a china shop.

Feral opened the door, visibly surprised to find Ghost standing outside of it. Her eyebrows appeared to climb up her forehead, disappearing under her long, messy bangs.

Whatever he was going to say fled from his mind, his mouth apparently not ready to have this conversation. After a moment's hesitation, the only thing he could get out was a simple, "Hi."

"Hey," she replied, leaning against the jamb in a tank top, and loaded for bear with weapons. It probably wasn't a very reassuring sight, and she took pleasure in the thought that making him look at the bruises on her neck would make him uncomfortable. Crossing her arms over her chest, she asked pointedly, "What's up?" What she meant was 'what do you want?'

Another thought occurred to her, and her lips twisted wryly. "Did Red tell you to come make nice?" She didn't even need to hear the confirmation to know that it was true. When Red was impressed with someone's on-the-job performance, he often tried to maintain contact, to add their information to his little black book of shadowrunners. He was a networker. He couldn't help himself.

And she, of course, hadn't told him the truth of the fight in the file room, giving him no valid reason not to want to work with Ghost again. There was a reason she hadn't told anyone. The logical side of her brain knew that it wasn't Ghost's fault, that he hadn't chosen to...behave in that manner (her mind dodged around calling a spade a spade now, possibly for the sake of her own inner peace). Rip suspected, possibly, through the snide comment that she had spat in the heat of the moment, but it was the most she'd said to anyone. Teva strongly suspected that Ghost hadn't said anything to anyone either for similar reasons; it was shameful, it was personal, it was _not him _(or was it?).

Teva tilted her head slightly, a coy move that drew attention to her neck even further. The look in her eyes wasn't coy though; it was aloof, maybe with a hint of curiosity in it as she waited for Ghost to speak.

The bruises on her neck made him feel sick to his stomach, and though not normally one to back down from the type of challenge she was obviously displaying for him, he found himself turning his gaze to the floor, unable to look at her.

"I have other teams I can work with," he said quietly. "I didn't come here for Red. I wanted to...I need to..." He ran a hand through his hair and began to pace back and forth in agitation. "Fuck, _'sorry'_ isn't going to cut it. A stupid...stupid apology isn't going to fix anything. Drug or not, there is no - _no_ excuse for what happened back there. _None._" He stopped pacing and stood before her, looking into her eyes. "I didn't come here to ask you to forgive me. In fact, don't _ever_ forgive me. I don't want it, but if there's anything you need to do to maybe feel a little better about the whole fucking situation, you do it. Tell me to fuck off, to never talk to you again, take my share of the cut, I don't care. You can even, even," he gestured towards her arsenal, "fuck, shoot me if you have to. If that's what it takes, you do what you need to. Whatever it...whatever it takes." He voice lowered again at the end as he ran out of steam. This wasn't going to help. Nothing was going to help, and he was an idiot for thinking it would. Part of him really _did_ wish she'd shoot him, and that it wouldn't be a merciful hit. He was almost begging for it.

Teva blinked, and dropped her chin. She blinked again, not sure what to say. Opening her mouth, she started to speak, then closed it again. With a rueful grin that held more than a helpful of self-mockery, Feral said, "If you'd come up here with some apology about how it wasn't your fault, I might have shot you. Actually, let's be honest, I've made other men pay higher prices for smaller offenses; I wouldn't have shot you, I'd have taken my time." With a glance over her shoulder to make sure Switch was still asleep, Teva swiped her jacket off the back of the shitty dinette chair, and stepped outside, closing the door behind her. An audience was not something she wanted for this.

"I thought about killing you," she said idly as she lit up a cigarette. "I easily could have. So why didn't I? I keep asking myself that. The fight would have been over long before you got your hands on my throat." Blowing out a plume of smoke toward the sky, Teva asked herself again why she hadn't killed him. It had been a poor decision on her part not to, and went against all the logic that said she should have. Turning to face him, she said quickly, in a moment of rare self-illumination, "I don't think you're a rapist. If you were, you wouldn't have bothered with fake pheromones. Why charm at all if your intention is simply to take? That's why I didn't kill you. I'm not saying that we're cool just yet. We're not going to hold hands and skip through the daisies together, or sing motherfucking Kumbaya."

Shifting, she admitted uneasily, "But you did good with Switch, and on the Run in general." With another puff on her cigarette, Teva concluded, "So I guess what I'm saying is I'm not going to punish you. I'm not going to take your cut, I'm not gonna lay a hand on you, but I'm not going to forgive you either; I can't just yet. However, your self-flagellation is satisfaction enough for me. Knowing that what you did hurts you makes me feel just a little smidgen-" she held up her thumb and index finger on her left hand, the pads a mere centimeter apart, "-better about this whole thing. The rest of it I'll pack into the deep, dark corner of my mind where the rest of my traumatic life experiences go.

"If Red contacts you with a job offer, and you're intrigued, don't worry if I'll be there. We may not be BFFs, but I'll do my job to the best of my ability. I always do." She offered Ghost a wan smile, a wordless parlay.

Ghost nodded solemnly, not entirely certain if he was satisfied with her decision to not bleed him dry - literally or figuratively. It was her choice though, not his. At least he accomplished his goal to make her feel a little better. That was a start.

"I'm gonna...I'm gonna get out of here then. If you ever need anything, I can...or maybe not me, personally, but I know people, if you don't want me to...Christ, I'm just going to shut up now. Tell Switch I'll give him a call later to see how he's doing. I'll...maybe see you around. I'm sorry."

With that, he turned to walk away, wanting nothing more than to go hit up the local bar and get himself shitfaced drunk for the night. That was always a great way to end a shitty Run.

With a roll of her eyes, Feral watched Ghost's retreating back. Jeez, you'd think somebody had tried to rape _him _from the way he was acting.

She walked over to Madden's room, rapping on the door.

Red opened it with a curious little look in his eyes.

"I want Madden," she stated.

He began to smirk.

"Not like that, you fucking pervert. Just...Madden?" she called into the recesses of the room.

With a little snicker, Red backed off, sliding away toward the table as Madden's girth filled up the doorway.

She smiled up at the troll with too much innocence. "Let's go for a walk. I think we owe somebody a visit."

Madden's answering grin held a touch of the devil in it. Time to blow off some steam.

* * *

The sun was filtering through the window, warming up Will's face in a lazy, comfortable manner. He stretched under the covers, relishing in his pain free, well-slept current state of existence. Keeping his eyes shut, his mind wandered over all the events of the last several days from that first phone call from Teva to last night when Rip had slipped in, scolded him lightly for falling asleep on top of the blankets with his cargos still on, and had promptly helped him get changed before tucking him back into bed. For some reason he wasn't embarrassed by that. She was a professional in her field and had treated the situation as such, and he didn't remember seeing anyone else in the room at the time that would make fun of him for it.

Speaking of...

He turned his head to take a glance at Feral's bed, but it was empty. Either she hadn't slept in it last night or had already slept, woken up, made the bed, and was off doing...something Feral-like.

Not thinking anything of it, he slipped out of bed and got into the drawer where she'd stashed all his stuff the night before.

"Phantom?" he asked once he had on his basic PAN stuff. He hoped the techno was out there somewhere listening. Usually the guy didn't get in touch with Will unless _he _wanted to.

_"Thank god,"_ came the almost immediate reply. "_Are you all right? When I lost your signal..."_

Will could feel Phantom's utter relief coursing through him. "Nothing a few brain docs couldn't handle...mostly," he smiled. It was good to know his friend had also made it out alive, even if he _was_just a Matrix friend. They talked for the next several minutes, Phantom informing him about the rescued technos, Will explaining the damage he'd taken and the possibility of the migraines affecting future extractions. In return, Phantom promised to compensate him more for his assistance, his way of helping out with the cost of the Xeto and as a thanks for all he had done inside Horizon.

"I wouldn't mind a few more toys," Will laughed. "I kind of killed most of the last ones, and I promised Clint a Skycycle."

He didn't need to send Phantom an image of what he was talking about. It was in his mind, which meant it was already in the node, which meant the techno had already seen it. Phantom chuckled and said he'd see what he could do.

"Cool. Hey, I'm gonna let you go. I'm starving!"

Ending the call, he meandered over to the fridge to see what Red had brought him the night before. He hoped it was something real, because damned if he didn't deserve it after everything he'd gone through. And this time he sure as shit wasn't going to throw it up.

* * *

Teva was whistling when she walked in the door, reeking of booze and blood, and wearing a collection of more bruises than she'd left with. She felt damn good. She and Madden had traipsed all over that shitty neighborhood until they found Roach. They may have also found a few bars on the way.

Roach was haunting the same neighborhood with a couple of thugs. After Feral had explained to him what happens when assholes try to fuck with her friends, she and Madden had found another bar, closed it, and promptly gotten into a fistfight in the parking lot. Some of the witnesses decided they were cool, and invited them back to party. Lots of booze and a night passed out on somebody's floor, plus a few fights meant that she was feeling pretty damn cheerful.

"Hey," she waved, grinning brightly. "Guess what? That guy who jumped you is a total pussy. I don't think he'll be bothering anybody else for awhile." Glancing in the mirror, she smoothed down her chaotic hair, then noticed there was actually a little bit of blood in it. Damn, no wonder it felt kind of chunky.

Will was sitting cross-legged on his bed, casually surfing the nets - _Dammit, Teva! Now she's got me saying it!_ - and happily scarfing down blueberry pancakes. Apparently Red had thought ahead last night, getting him yummy breakfast foods that would be easier on his still temperamental stomach. He paused for only a second when Feral walked in looking like she'd just gotten into a bar fight, which apparently she _had, _then continued eating as if this was an everyday occurrence. It probably kind of _was _with her.

"He wasn't so pussy with a gang full of guys shooting machine guns," he commented when she was through, absently running a finger along his scar. "Freak," he added with a teasing smile.

He felt good too, strangely enough. Maybe it was just post I-should-be-so-dead-right-now-but-I'm-not glee, or the sense of accomplishment that he always experienced after finishing a Run (especially the ones where he was freeing lab rats), or maybe it was just general relief that the whole thing was over. Whatever happy place his brain decided to pull his emotions from this morning, he was grateful for it. He wasn't worried about his migraines, or the fact that after he paid everyone back for what he owed them he'd probably have just enough to get himself home before he needed to find a Fixer to get him another job, or the need for a new comm because he'd pretty much burned out Knox. Nothing mattered at all right then except his breakfast, his online hobbies, and watching his friend fuss at the dried blood in her hair.

"Group mentality is different," Feral argued without thinking as she plopped down on his bed, stealing a pancake which she rolled up and ate plain. "Groups are made of stupid. They're all cock 'n balls, and no fucking brains. Take away the group, the individual members lose a lot of their bravado. Separately they're nothing. That's why they have to band up in the first place."

"Speaking of pussies," he said in a somewhat distracted manner as he checked out the new sim movie lineup, "I know a princess who still needs to learn how to punch a guy. If the offer's still on the table for a first hand lesson, I can tell you about 'Carn."

In two bites, Teva finished the pancake, chewing with her cheeks puffed out. After she'd swallowed, Teva spoke again, "Yeah, I'll teach you some self-defense. Lesson number one: sometimes in the movies you see actors tuck their thumbs in their fist when they punch. Don't ever do that. That's how you break your thumb. In fact, open-palm heel-strikes are a lot better, and with the right leverage they can cause just as much damage as a close-fisted punch."

"Now," she rolled on her stomach, and pinched a stray blueberry off the plate, "Tell me all about 'Carn."

* * *

**-FIN-**


End file.
